


I'll Remember You

by mzlynx



Series: Songs of Finn and Devotion [1]
Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Angst, F/M, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Massages, Non-Graphic Sexual Content, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Build, TLC, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzlynx/pseuds/mzlynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Finn? Why do you call me kitten?" "Because I want to make you purr..." A slightly different Season Five, where Rory decides to ignore Logan in favor of an exotic brunette...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to point out a few things to act as “guidelines” for this story. It’s season 5, starting a few days after episode 5:08, "The Party’s Over". I’ve made a few changes though. Some things happening in the show didn’t, in my version, while others are written a little differently than what you’ve seen.  
> If you’re a fan of either Chris, Dean or Logan, please be advised: to me they serve one purpose, and one purpose only. They’re roadblocks, tools for plot development and simply handy for when I need a bad guy.
> 
> A favorite song I often listen to, the memory of someone I once knew… One day the two collided inside that maze otherwise known as my brain. Add the fanfic-writing, and this becomes the result...

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. Nor do I own any of the referenced music (extended musical info at the end).  
Beta’d by dotk1988 of Perfect Imagination, who’s spotted my typos, corrected me and given me valuable feed-back. The errors you don’t see – those are thanks to her. The ones you do... are all on me.

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I’ll Remember You**

**Chapter One – Hands**

Someone was at the door. At least Rory thought so – the pounding was too loud to exist only in her head, right? It made her headache worse, though, and made her even more irritated than she already was. Since the oh-so-fun Rory-auction and the even less so dumping-by-Dean the previous weekend she’d been short-tempered. The fact that her grandmother had called her a grand total of 16 times ( _sixteen!_ ) in the 48 hours since - trying to pry, trying to make her commit to dates with boys that had been present, trying to God-knew-what – hadn’t made things any better.

Neither had the seven calls from the editor of the Yale Daily News, Doyle, looking for Paris earlier that day. Rory had her suspicions that it wasn’t just articles he wanted to discuss with her room-mate, but she was keeping quiet on the matter. The explosion that would inevitably follow should Paris hear about it wasn’t something Rory wanted, as was the possibility that Paris might act upon it. The relationship, and Rory still found herself supplying air quotes to the word, between the other girl and the late professor Asher Fleming had been quite enough, thank you very much.

So, if the person trying to break her door down **was** Doyle… Oh, he’d get a piece of her mind all right. Rory Gilmore with a headache was **not** something to be taken lightly. But maybe it wasn’t the annoying editor. It could be someone else. _Yeah, like Logan Huntzberger,_ her subconscious added – sounding **way** too happy. She groaned. _If that’s the alternative, then **please** let it be Doyle…_ The blond treated her rather decently, sure - at least recently and when in comparison to others - but she was soooo not in the mood for dealing with him at the moment.

 _If it’s either of those two idiots, I’m slamming the door shut and calling campus police. I don’t care **what** the result is. Problem is, I can’t see who else it could be; grandma wouldn’t show up this late and Marty’s working, so who do I know that would come “knocking” at half past ten on a Tuesday night?_ She ripped the door open with a bit more force than necessary, not bothering to hide her scowl before barking at the person outside.

“What? Who in… Oh.” _Finn_ … “Huh? Uh, why…?”

“Hello, kitten. Saw the lights and thought I’d collect you. Though you seem rather under-dressed, I must say.”

“Huh?” Finn’s voice washed over her, warm and amused, like an audible caress. She shook her head softly, trying to get her bearings. _Under-dressed?_ She looked down at her comfy pajama pants and her oversized Yale sweater without understanding. Maybe not exactly fashionable, but still. _Since when do we have a dress code in our dorm?_

“Logan said you were joining us at the pub tonight, kitten, and while I normally admire your casual style this might be a bit too casual even for you,” Finn went on.

_Oh. The Pub. Right. As if… Not tonight, buster._

“Sorry, Finn. I forgot. Look, I have a monster of a headache; in fact I’m prepared to kill anything that’s even remotely annoying or loud, or possibly just alive. I’m not even sure I’m excluding myself. So I won’t be going to the pub, **obviously**. I really, really don’t feel like T2:ing it tonight.”

“Terminator 2, kitten?” Finn’s face was a study in non-understanding. “Do tell; how on Earth does an evening at the pub with us compare to trying to stop evil robots from ending the world?”

She giggled, taken aback by his question. And then an image struck her – Logan mangled like the evil terminator from the second movie, about to be melted, all while spouting bad pick-up lines. That did it. She started laughing full out. Minutes passed. Rory laughed, not caring what Finn must think or that her face was wet with tears. All that she could focus on was that image of Logan… When her mirth finally was containable, she tried to wipe away the tears with her hands, then realized the futility of it and used her sleeve. When she was done she looked at Finn again.

“I’m sorry. I am, really, it’s just… I got these images, and oh… God, I **needed** that. I **so** needed that. It even helped a little with my headache!”

“Glad to be of assistance, kitten. Now, mind sharing the joke?”

“Oh, why not. ‘T2’ wasn’t a cinematic reference, surprisingly enough, but a people one. See, back in high school there was this guy - blond, cocky, came from money. Figured himself to be pretty much irresistible, couldn’t imagine a girl not being interested – had a string of bimbos a mile long that trailed around after him helping with that. My first day there he offered to lend me some notes – asking me exactly how ‘grateful’ I would be then. For the next year he tried to ask me out again and again, not accepting ‘no’. And that was the only answer I had for him.  
See, he tended to ‘date’ a lot, and there were all these rumors – the kind that had to do with notches on the bedpost. Well, I had no intention of being one of his conquests. And then there was the ‘small’ fact that I had a boyfriend. But of course, he didn’t believe that – that a girl would find a boyfriend somewhere else, when **he** was available? Unbelievable. So, when I brought Dean as my date for the Winter Formal – yes,” she added when seeing Finn’s questioning look, “ **that** Dean – this guy actually tried starting a fight with him. Oh yeah, he was a real prize that one.  
Kept getting into trouble, which he then promptly got out of again thanks to his family’s connections, all the time. Didn’t seem to be able to remember my name – I honestly doubt he’d been able to call me ‘Rory’ even if his life had depended on it. Remind you of anyone?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Quite. And I take it his name started with a ‘T’. Huh. And here I was looking forward to a thorough analysis, comparing the shallowness of our lives with that of robots or such.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Finn. Given a bit of time, and maybe a call to my mom...” Rory quickly shook her head, “well, I could probably whip something up for you, but for now the truth will have to do.” She smiled, feeling a bit more human than before his arrival.

“The truth? Well now. That’s a novel concept. Now, about that head of yours. Pretty though it is, the lines around your eyes really aren’t helping. Have you been drinking?”

Rory stared at Finn. _Drinking, of course. And **why** am I even surprised? This is Finn we’re talking about._

“No. This headache’s been building for 36 hours, Finn, and personally I really don’t think alcohol’s the way to cure a headache. Get one, yes, but not get rid of.”

“I was thinking water, actually. I know, shocking, but I **do** know that water’s good for more than surfing. Don’t tell anyone I said that though; wouldn’t want to ruin my image, now would we?”

Rory blushed. Had she really been that judgmental? _Is it the headache talking, or am I really that stupid? Don’t I normally give people more chances than that?_

“Oh. Right, water. Yeah.”

“And pills? The headache kind,” he added with a teasing smile.

“Not since lunch. I took some this morning, placed some in my bag and double-checked that we had a full box left. But, apparently Paris is also suffering from something because when I returned from class the box was gone. I haven’t had the energy to go out and get more.”

“Right then. Sit.” Finn ushered her to the couch, and Rory sat down with a feeling of having fallen through the mirror. Soon she had a glass – the largest they owned – full of water in her hand, and Finn was walking out the door. Leaving it open. _For the white rabbit?_ A little while later he walked in again and handed her four white pills.

“Two for now, two for the morning just in case. Your next-door neighbor sends his condolences – something about Paris and C-span? Anyway, take them and make sure to drink all that water. Bathroom?”

”I don’t need… Oh. Sorry. I’m being real stupid tonight. Must be the fact that my brain cells can’t make themselves heard over the noise in my head… Right outside the door. I’ll just sit here, drink my water and be quiet.” And so she did – while simultaneously trying to ignore her brain’s confused whining. It wanted to know what was **up** with Finn. But Rory knew that to try and figure out Finn would be hard work any day, and a day like this? Yeah, wouldn’t exactly help with the pain in her head. Rather the opposite, and **that** she wasn’t ready to deal with.

Still. In the past days she’d thought a bit about the lively Aussie, just as she’d thought about Logan and Colin – Colin hadn’t been too complicated, and once she’d found the right angle, neither had Logan. Rory was sure that the blond would be pretty offended at the thought that he was an easy puzzle, but hey, she’d dealt with Tristin Dugray. Once she’d realized that Logan was pretty much only an older version of the Chilton playboy, well…

But Finn… The first times she’d met him he’d been with Colin and Logan, and all three of them had acted like arrogant and annoying snobs. Then at the Life and Death Brigade event she’d covered she’d found him seriously lacking; he’d come off as a spoiled, lazy and easily bored bratty rich kid. At her grandparents’ party however, she’d gotten to see a slightly different side. Sure, at first he’d kept to his usual routine, but once Dean pulled his stunt… Finn had helped take care of her. At the time she’d figured it was because Logan had initiated it, or maybe because Finn was bored and cheering Rory up had been something new to do. This time however, she had no such excuses. Finn was helping her, without prompting, and he had absolutely nothing to gain from it. Right?

Her head throbbed viciously, as if to remind her that **thinking** was a very much prohibited activity.

When she heard the bathroom door open and Finn walk back into the room Rory was trying to make her head behave by resting it against the back of the couch with her eyes closed. She didn’t open them, as Finn’s steps came closer – it felt like the routine might actually work. Also, she figured it would help enforce her “I’m-so-not-going-to-the-Pub” policy. She stayed that way even as Finn started speaking.

“How’s the head?”

“Still attached, sadly. But I’m sure it’ll be better, soon. I appreciate the help, Finn, I do, but I’m not exactly going to magically bounce back and feel like going out. Maybe if you were to cut off my head, but I’m not quite desperate enough to try that yet. So…” She let the sentence disappear into thin air, not wanting to say it straight out. Her tone of voice however did it for her, saying something along the line of _“Thanks awfully, now, **why** are you still here?”_

“Oh, I have no doubt. Wouldn’t believe you if you said you wanted to go. To be honest you look a little too much like death warmed over to manage that. Now, seriously? Unless you’re prone to migraines, the cause for your headache is probably tension. The fact that you’re holding your right shoulder slightly higher than your left supports that theory.”

Rory wondered if she looked as surprised as she felt. Finn was **analyzing** her headache?

“I’m sure you don’t see anything positive about how your head feels right now, but there is actually one thing: a tension-based headache is relatively easy to deal with most of the time.”

The couch moved, and Rory realized it was because Finn had sat down next to her. She pried one eye open and sent a wary look his way. He noticed with a smile, and patted the place between his knees.

“Get over here.”

“What?” She winced, again. _Man, when am I going to **learn**?_ “Why, what are you talking about?”

“Come over here, and sit down on the floor in front of me.” He must have sensed the argument coming, because he immediately started explaining, “You’re tense, that’s why your head hurts. Now, I know a few ways to take care of that for you, but in order to do that I need you to do as I say.”

Rory debated the merits of listening to Finn for a few seconds, but in the end she followed his instructions. He’d helped so far, what harm could come from letting him try one more thing? As he pulled her closer and asked if she wore anything under her sweatshirt she asked herself that same question again, this time with more acid and doubt. Both were obvious in her next question.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, then I’d like you to take the sweatshirt off.”

“ **What**?” This time her voice was icy.

“Look, kitten, I’m not out to sully your honor or any such thing. I just want to help. And that sweatshirt is not just ugly; it’s also in the way. Please.”

Slowly, arguing with herself the whole time, Rory took the offending sweatshirt off. Then she steeled herself for the unknown that was to come.

“Relax, kitten. I won’t hurt you. Now, let your neck fall a little forward, just by relaxing. Breathe deeply, slowly, and just focus on those two things. Breathing, and relaxing, okay?”

As she did her best to comply Finn placed his hands on her shoulders and started warming them with slow strong movements. Of course she tensed up at once.

“Shhhh, kitten. Relax. It’s just a massage. Not the **best** treatment for your headache, but a damned good second. So. Try again – relax, and breathe.”

She tried to do exactly that as Finn’s fingers dug into her tense muscles. Not too hard, not too fast, not using too much pressure – it was just perfect. Rory found that relaxing was getting easier by the minute. She sank deeper into an almost-trance where all that existed for her was her breathing and Finn’s hands.

~ * ~ * ~

When the massage stopped Rory almost moaned in protest. Her headache was gone, along with a previously ignored ache in her neck and right shoulder. She felt **good**. Though, seeing as Finn’s hands were responsible… She blushed slightly.

“So, headache all gone? Good. Remember now, like I said this is only the second best way to get rid of a tension headache. Next time, maybe we’ll try the best way?” he asked with a smirk and one eyebrow slightly raised.

Rory was about to ask what that was, but stopped herself at the last second. Even her groggy brain managed to realize the minefield that lay down **that** path. Not why there was one, mind you, but the existence of one. Still, she wasn’t able to stop herself completely and so called his name softly, hesitantly. “Finn? Why do you keep calling me ‘kitten’?”

And there she had all the necessary proof that she **had** been stupid; it was evident in the amusement that blossomed in his eyes, in the one twitching corner of his mouth… Not a smile, not a smirk – just an upturned corner. And Rory faced the absolute knowledge that she’d just gone off the deep end.

“Simple, **kitten** ,” he drawled, pausing for effect before continuing: “because I want to make you purr.” A full-out smile now, followed by a swift appraising look at the blush spreading on her face, and then he was gone. Rory shook her head, softly, trying to understand but not quite knowing what to make of Finn. Instead she wandered off to bed thinking that she had in fact been on the verge of purring just minutes ago. That had been a **good** massage.

A little later, on the verge of sleep, she remembered something. An article Paris had been reading, about headaches as an excuse not to have sex. Instead, the article had stated, of women saying “Not tonight, honey, I have a headache” they should be saying “Honey, I have a headache; let’s have sex” since most headaches were tension based and sex relieved tension. Or well, **good** sex led to orgasms and **that** relieved tension.

She blushed again, and had she not been so beat she would’ve been unable to sleep due to her realization of what Finn had hinted at. However, not even **that** could stop her exhaustion from taking over. Seconds ticked by; one, two, five, ten… And she was asleep.

~ * ~ * ~

The next morning Rory awoke without headache or pain, and when she twisted her body across the bed in a catlike stretch no part complained. She got up, singing Finn’s praise internally, and thought that if this was what it meant to be on friendly terms with Finn, then she sure wasn’t going to protest. The smile on her face soon froze though, as she remembered not just what Finn had **done** but also what he’d **said**. “This is only the second best way to cure a headache.”

Rory could feel her face heat up, and knew she probably rivaled a forest fire right then. Surely he hadn’t suggested… It was Finn, for crying out loud! Finn, who’d actually surprised her not only by remembering that they’d met before but also by knowing where she lived. It was just teasing, she told herself firmly – or well, in what was supposed to be a firm tone. Sure, rather sexual teasing – _“I want to make you purr”_ – but still. Teasing. Boys being boys and all that. Right?

No matter how she tried, she still couldn’t make Finn’s words mean anything else – that first interpretation stayed. Finn sure had seemed to suggest that the next time she had a headache he’d cure it by having sex with her. Unbelievable though it seemed Rory’s blush grew even fiercer. **Sex** with Finn? Sex with **Finn**! Okay, so the guy had amazing hands, he **had** almost made her purr, and judging from how good he’d made her feel during the massage, well… She groaned, shook her head and dug her mental heels in. She did **not** want to go there. Sex only equaled trouble. Sex like that, something physical only? That just had to equal even more trouble.

Try as she might though, Rory found she couldn’t help thinking about Finn’s smile, Finn’s hints and most of all Finn’s hands several times over the next few days. Those thoughts were almost always accompanied by an interesting shade of pink. 

~ To Be Continued ~

~ * ~ * ~

_AN: As stated, story is triggered/inspired partly by the song for which it is named; “I’ll Remember You”, written and performed by Sophie Zelmani. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jtOOs87K7M)_  
 _Chapter titles comes from the lyrics. “Songs of Finn and Devotion” is a paraphrase of “Songs of Faith and Devotion”, an album by Depeche Mode._  
My extent of ownership amounts to exactly one copy of each album, and absolutely nothing Gilmore Girls-ish. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I'll Remember You**

**Chapter Two – Eyes**

Rory glanced at her wristwatch. An hour and a half until she had to leave for Hartford and her grandparents – well, two really, but she needed those extra thirty minutes to stock up on coffee. After all, with everything that was going on, she would **need** all the coffee she could get into her system to survive the evening. For instance there wasn’t a chance her grandparents would have given up already on finding her a “proper” young man. Not in a week. Yeah, okay, there **was** a chance – only it was about the same as a snowball had in Hell…  
So, coffee first. _But, what to do after coffee?_ She could get some homework done early, go over her latest article for the Yale Daily News or perhaps just sit around and read – chances for that had been sparse the past week. _Or…_ Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a yell from behind.

“Hey, Ace! Wait up!”

“And it was such a nice day,” Rory muttered sotto voce, before faking a smile at the fast approaching blond. “Logan. Was there something particular you wanted? If it’s about those notes I said you could borrow for your article I don’t have them on me right now.”

“Nah, not that, though I have decided to take you up on that offer. No, I was just hoping you’d join us at the Pub tonight. Seeing as you bailed on me last time…”

Rory fought down a scowl and a sigh. The only reason she’d said yes **that** time had been because Logan had cornered her, and honestly she’d been grateful when her headache had made it possible for her to not go. Still… she **did** have those two hours, and there **was** coffee at the Pub, surely?

“Look, Logan, I’m heading over to Hartford – dinner with my grandparents. But,” she quickly added when he was about to protest, ”I don’t have to leave quite yet, so I guess I could stop by for an hour. **After** I’ve had a chance to change. And no, that’s not negotiable. It’s a ‘take it or leave it’ kind of thing.”

What she meant, however, was to take it or leave **her.** Logan seemed to understand and didn’t argue. He also accepted her firm “no” to the suggestion that he walk her to her dorm and then to the Pub. Sure, it was nice of him to offer, but Rory didn’t feel comfortable with the thought of him in her home. _Didn’t bother you to have Finn there though, now did it?_ her subconscious asked snidely, which provoked another blush. She **hadn’t** minded, or well, any bother on her part had been about anything but his actual presence.

Speaking of Finn, she hadn’t seen him since that evening in her dorm. Sure, it had only been a few days – _three_ – and it wasn’t as if she could remember seeing him much before either. Not that she’d been **looking** for him, absolutely not, but still… Rory stubbornly refused to listen to the snide inner voice that insisted that she **so** had been looking and that maybe her agreeing to stopping by the Pub had more to do with the possibility of seeing Finn than with shutting Logan up.

~ * ~ * ~

Entering the Pub Rory was having not second, but fourth **and** fifth thoughts. Did she really want to spend her time like this? And why did part of her mind insist on wanting to see Finn? Sure, he was probably here, somewhere, just as he always seemed to be – but why should she care? It wasn’t as if they were friends or anything, in fact they were barely acquaintances. The only thing separating Finn from any of the other LDB-boys was the time he’d spent at her dorm. _And the fact that he’s had his hands on you_ , her subconscious added cheekily. _Don’t go and forget his hands…_ No, she didn’t seem to be able to forget about those. Rory fought down the blush threatening to spread with a shake of her head and a tiny growl. **Why** was it she didn’t seem to be able to forget those hands?

And why again was she here? Wouldn’t it be better to do just about anything else – including going to her grandparents early? She was due at her grandfather’s first, and to be honest he was a lot easier to deal with these days than his estranged wife. If she showed up an hour or so early they would have more time to discuss things, say for instance the essay she was currently mapping out.

Having made her mind up Rory was just about to turn around and leave when a voice cut through the dim of the Pub.

“Ace!” _Busted…_ Logan had spotted her, which meant there was no way she could leave now, not without way too many lies. Plus, this **was** Logan Huntzberger, meaning there would also be pouting and the “grown-up” version of her half-sister Gigi’s tantrum. She couldn’t quite see Logan falling down on the floor, kicking and screaming, but well… not far from.

Rory sighed; only one thing to do. She tacked on the best smile she could manage and steeled herself. “Logan.” 

“There you are! Steph thought you were trying to bail, but I told her you’d never do that.”

 _Steph?_ Rory ran through her memories of the people she’d met in Logan’s company and came up with blond hair and a comment about the “line”. _Oh._ Gorilla Girl. _Looks like she’s a bit smarter than I took her for._ She didn’t say that out loud though. Instead she smiled, nodded and settled for “I didn’t see you at first” and added her Chilton-smile.

“We’re over there, in the corner. See? Why don’t you go sit while I get you something to drink? What would the lady like?”

“Just an orange juice, please.” Seeing a definite **look** on Logan’s face she continued: “I told you I had to go to Hartford afterwards. Drinking and driving really isn’t my thing, so juice it is.”  
“Fine, fine.” It didn’t **look** like he thought it was fine though, but as he didn’t say anything neither did Rory. Instead she walked over to the table Logan had pointed at earlier and sat down next to Colin who’d moved to clear a seat for her. It didn’t take her long to notice that while she recognized about two thirds of the people present from either her grandparents’ party or the event she’d attended Finn was notably absent. Why that bothered her was nothing Rory wanted to think about.

Instead Rory’s mind started going other places she didn’t like, as for instance how stupid it was to accept a drink from someone she didn’t really know all that well. Her mother would frown, she just knew it, and Paris… Just the thought of having to explain herself – should something occur – to her room-mate sent bolts of lightning through Rory’s head. And even though she tried telling herself that she really had no reason to suspect Logan of anything foul, like trying to spike her drink with some date rape-drug, she still had a hard time controlling her pulse.

When Logan came back with her juice Rory immediately noticed it was in a glass, not an unopened bottle, and hesitated. She took the drink and thanked Logan, but didn’t feel safe enough to actually taste it. Yes, she felt stupid for it, but everything inside her told her not to be enough of an idiot to drink the innocent- **looking** juice. Still, how to get out of it? Rory debated whether or not she’d be able to fake an attack of clumsiness in a believable manner – and without spilling the drink on either herself or Colin. Well, maybe herself – that **would** give her an excuse to leave early.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice that someone sat down next to her, nor that someone’s hand picking up her glass and draining it. She did, however, notice the loud voice just inches from her ear seconds later.

“Bloody hell! That was the weakest Screwdriver I’ve ever tasted!”

“That’s probably because it wasn’t a Screwdriver, Finn; it was an orange juice. **Ace’s** orange juice to be precise.” Logan didn’t sound exactly happy. _Is it me, or does he sound more upset than he should? God, I’m turning paranoid. Still, thank you Finn…_

“Oh. Have I met you yet?” Finn was looking serious, and for a second Rory actually wondered if he could be that drunk, before he sent her the tiniest wink possible. “I’m sorry, love. That was very rude of me. Will you forgive me?”

“Sure Finn, don’t worry. I’ll just go get another one.” Rory stood up, feeling a little silly and a lot relieved at the same time, happy to get away for a little while. Finn sent her a smile, handed her some money and asked her to get him a “proper” Screwdriver at the same time.

On her way over to the bar Rory thought about Finn’s behavior. Any of the other guys would probably have rushed over to get her drink for her – in fact, both Logan and Seth had offered – while Finn just sat there, handed her money and let her do it herself. The truth was she felt a lot better that way. After the scenarios her mind had just presented her with Rory wasn’t so sure she’d be able to accept a drink from anyone for quite some time. Now, if Finn didn’t react to the juice in any way she was sure she’d feel even more stupid than she already did, but still. She’d rather feel like an idiot than end up raped.

Rory ordered an orange juice and an espresso for herself, along with a Screwdriver for Finn, and returned to the table for what was promising to be a very taxing hour.

~ * ~ * ~

_Finally!_ Parking her car in her spot at Yale Rory let out a sigh, relaxed a little and tried to focus on her breathing. Dinner with her grandparents was never easy, even less so since their separation, but this had to be one of the worst nights ever. Rory jealously thought about the fact that her mother hadn’t been forced to sit through it, and then immediately banished those thoughts. Lorelai had been absent for most Friday night dinners since before the Europe trip, and usually Rory would feel relieved about that fact. Things were... easier that way.

Not tonight though.

First there had been her grandfather… Richard Gilmore had not been his usual (for Rory at least) easygoing self. No. He’d gone on about how as a Gilmore she needed to think about whom she associated with, and such things, and before long Rory had been ready to scream. Spending time with her grandfather was almost always a pleasure, the two of them talking about books and news and such, but tonight it had been all about “duties” and other boring things that made her see just exactly why her mother had chosen to run away at seventeen with a baby.

Then Emily Gilmore had taken up where her husband had left off, only in an even more irritating way. When the maid had informed them about a report concerning bad weather Rory had pounced on the excuse to leave. Her grandmother, of course, had not wanted her to drive back, not when she had a “perfectly good bedroom right there, just for occasions like this” but Rory had insisted. One more hour spent with either grandparent would send her to either an asylum or jail – she was sure.

Unfortunately she’d been so eager to leave she’d left her coat behind, and now the rain was pouring down. To top it all Rory’s dorm was on one end of campus and her parking space on the other, ensuring she’d be completely drenched before she’d gotten even part of the way. She sighed, steeled herself and got out anyway.

Standing at the edge of the parking lot, just where the roof ended, Rory seriously started contemplating spending the night in her car instead of braving the rain – at least she’d be dry, right? She thought there was a leftover chocolate bar somewhere, _and didn’t Luke make me put some kind of emergency blanket in the trunk?_ Again she was so deep in thoughts that she blocked out her surroundings. She didn’t see the dark shadow approaching until it was almost within touching distance. **Then** she noticed, and screamed.

“Oi, kitten! Please! My poor ears. Who do you take me for, the bogeyman?”

“Oh, God, Finn!” For a moment Rory saw red and actually thought about hitting him. She decided against it, but only because she suspected she’d cause more damage to her hand than to Finn. Instead she started yelling. “Don’t **do** that! You never, ever sneak up on a girl like that! Ever! You almost gave me a heart attack. Your ears? My nerves! As if it wasn’t bad enough, with the weather and everything…” Rory kept going, only she ran out of real words and found she was growling instead. The message, she saw, was getting through though, loud and clear.

“Really? I pass here just about every day, and I’ve never caused anyone’s death or hospitalization yet. I was just going home; I had no intention what so ever of ’sneaking up’ on anyone. Well, all right, if I **had** then you’d probably be at the top of my list seeing as you scream so prettily, but that wasn’t the case.”

Finn smiled, looking a bit patronizing, but even though Rory tried hard to she was unable to get mad at him again. She was just happy that it was Finn and not someone a lot more scary or annoying. _Like Logan?_ her subconscious asked – a question that went unanswered.

“Now, if I may ask, what are you doing here? And not exactly dressed for the occasion, I might add.”

Rory blushed slightly.

“Oh, ehm, I was just… My grandmother was being so Emily, and it was leave or go mad, and this is my parking spot, and I…” She was rambling again. How Gilmore Girl-ish of her. “Sorry. I’ll try that again, once more with a brain attached. I’m here because I park my car here. I’m **still** here because of the lousy weather, and I’m without my coat because I was in such a hurry to leave that I didn’t remember to bring it. My grandparents were... difficult tonight. There. Answer all your questions?”

Finn just looked at her, obviously trying not to laugh, for a little while longer. Then he asked: “And just how were you planning to get back to your dorm without getting completely drenched? You **do** live on the other side of campus, remember?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the $10,000 question. I’ll either get wet or sleep in the car – until I’ve decided which I guess I’ll just stay right here.”

“That’s not a very good idea, kitten. It might not be raining in here, but it’s not exactly warm either. You’ll get just as sick from standing here too long I’m guessing, and sleeping in your car? That’s even worse. Look, I live just a minute or two away, see that building there? Why don’t you come with me, my jacket is big enough to keep both of us relatively dry, and then you can borrow something warmer and an umbrella for your walk back? Doesn’t that sound just a little bit better than sleeping in a car or freezing half to death?”

It did. Rory didn’t want to admit it, but Finn was actually being smarter than she was right then. And **that** stung. Being out-smarted always did, but it being done by a drunk Finn? _Ouch_. Still, the wind – and the humidity it carried – had made her cold enough to consider just about anything that didn’t turn her into a drowned rat.

“You know, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were making way too much sense for your drunken image to fit. But hey, if it keeps me from drowning… Your offer sounds great, thank you. Let’s go.”

As they were walking closely together underneath Finn’s jacket it suddenly hit Rory that for someone who’d blushed herself silly over a suggestive comment she was getting awfully cozy with Finn. Also, only a few hours earlier she’d practically panicked at the Pub – more than ready to suspect Logan of trying to drug her – and here she was coming home with Finn? Yeah, the weather was horrible, but still. Shouldn’t she be nervous enough to brave worse than this to feel safe? The thing was, Rory reluctantly admitted, that she honestly felt safe with Finn. Sure, she had no idea what to make of him, but that didn’t make him feel like a threat. Strangely enough.

In a way Finn reminded her of Jess, she realized. When Luke had first opened his home to Jess the entire town had been suspicious and hostile, with one exception: her. She’d seen another side of Jess and had been willing to trust him, something that had led to friendship and love. Oh, sure, lots of complications as well, but still. She’d never regretted trusting Jess, being his friend and loving him. Not even when he’d broken her heart in tiny pieces by leaving without a word. She would have preferred for their story to have ended differently, yes, but would never wish it undone.

So, what did it say that Finn reminded her of Jess? Apart from him being dark-haired with a bad boy warning attached? Well, first of all that she needed to be careful – the fact that he reminded her of Jess didn’t make him Jess, and she shouldn’t trust him unconditionally based on that. Second… Second, she found him attractive. This only meant she had to be even more careful. Because, well, she might have loved Jess – _still might love_ him – and she might not **regret** him, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t hurt her. And if Finn really was anything like Jess… Falling for Finn was an abstract idea at the moment, although one she suspected could become real much too easily, but she needed to be aware of the possibility. Needed to be careful – to guard herself.

Finn’s apartment building was just as close as he’d promised, and as soon as they’d entered Rory felt glorious as warmth started seeping into her body. She hadn’t really understood until then exactly how cold she’d gotten outside, and just how grateful she should probably be for the fact that Finn had shown up when he did. She did **not** have time to be sick right now – her much-too-frequent headaches provided more than enough of a roadblock and she was already struggling to keep up.

One elevator ride later she stepped into what seemed to be a very cozy apartment, but curiosity could wait; there and then all Rory wanted was to get warmer and go to the bathroom – not even in that order. Finn seemed to notice and a crooked smile danced across his face.

“Look, kitten, I realize you probably want to go home, but you’re freezing. How about I find you a warm sweater and fix a cup of coffee before you go outside again? Yes? Great. Wait here.”

When he returned with a pile of fabric Rory accepted it and disappeared into the bathroom to change, take care of some private matters and swallow down two of the little white pills luckily still residing in her purse. Afterwards she stepped out, praying that the pills would kick in **soon** , feeling a little better from the smell that was slowly filling the apartment: fresh coffee.

“My favorite kind of man,” she sighed happily upon spotting Finn over by the coffee-maker, large mug in hand.

“What; tall, dark and gorgeous? Exotic?” he grinned.

“No, with coffee, silly.” She laughed at his faked expression of hurt, winced a little as her head protested, and then continued: “Will it be long?”

“No. And since my mother raised me to be a gentleman I feel obliged to offer you something to chew on as well. I’ve got soft crackers that should be hard, bagels that need some serious defrosting, some fruit that’s probably still edible or, _la pièce de résistance_ , some cookies that were actually bought yesterday. Or was it the day before? Still, they really should be the safest bet. Grocery shopping has been on my to do list for a few days now, but things keep coming in the way.”

“It’s okay. I’ll try the cookies, thank you. And honestly? Sometimes the only reason I have enough snacks at my place is because of Luke. Him or Sookie.” She noticed Finn’s raised eyebrow and questioning look, and averted the upcoming question: “Luke’s my mom’s boyfriend, who’s been feeding us since forever. And Sookie is mom’s partner, as in they run an inn together, and a wonderful chef. Her cooking is world-class, really. Between the two of them I’m usually pretty good. Which is lucky, since my cooking skills begins with making sandwiches and ends with making coffee. With nothing but defrosting in between, I might add.”

Finn smiled, the kind of smile that said he thought she was exaggerating. She was, but not by much. She could cook pasta – just noodles, no sauce – and boil an egg. That was it.

“Hey, I’ll take reading over learning to cook any day. There’s always take-out, or I could do like my mom: find a guy who’ll cook for me.” At that Finn laughed, just as he was meant to. There was something a little too knowing about the look on his face though, but Rory banished that thought. _You’re becoming paranoid, really._ And on that note...

She looked into his eyes – slightly fuzzy but beautiful – _Bedroom eyes, god, and coupled with those **hands** of his... Focus!_ – and tried to find a discreet way of asking what she needed to know.

“Finn? Earlier, at the Pub... I... Are you feeling okay?”

“No worries, kitten. I didn’t drink **that** much.”

“Maybe not, but you drank my juice.” She was beyond trying to be subtle, so she went for blunt. This time Finn got her meaning.

“Oh. The spiked juice.” Her heart stopped. “Yeah, didn’t think you wanted that. It was real weak though, any less and I wouldn’t have noticed, but still.”

“Oh my god. Oh, my **god**. How did you know? Are you okay, do I need to call the ambulance? I... Wait, you didn’t think I wanted that? What, why...? Are we even speaking the same language here? Explain, please.”

“Calm down, kitten. Stress really isn’t good for you, you should know that. Just calm down, and I’ll tell you what I can.” He poured two cups of coffee, placed them on either side of the table, with the cookies slightly closer to her, and started talking again. “When Logan showed up tonight he was really pleased with himself, told us you’d be joining us. Just for awhile you’d said, because of a thing with your grandparents, but he was going to try and change your mind. Then a while later I see you sitting there, looking at a glass of juice like it’s going to jump up and bite you.”

_He noticed? Hmmm. He seems to see a lot more that I’ve given him credit for._

“So I figured, since I was already drinking there would be no harm to me from one more drink.” _Wait, drink? He did say it was spiked though, maybe he just didn't mean it like I thought._ “It was really weak, like I said, but there was definitely vodka in there. Not enough to make you drunk or anything, but two of those and you wouldn’t have been driving.”

“Logan knows I don’t drink and drive, I told him. So if there was vodka in the juice he bought me...”

“He wanted you to stay at the Pub. And if you weren’t driving, well, getting to Hartford from here without a car, on a Friday evening? Can’t be easy. He’s done that before, spike a drink to make someone stay when they weren’t supposed to. Normally they appreciate it though, and I had a feeling you wouldn’t. After all, considering what you said about your grandmother after that party... If you were visiting them after that, then it had to be important.”

_Yep, he definitely sees more than I would have guessed._

“It was. Is. See, they pay for Yale and in return I have dinner with them every Friday.”

Finn raised an eyebrow as a question, and bracing herself she explained further between sips of coffee and bites of cookie.

“Mom and I don’t exactly have a lot of money. My grandparents have some, but mom walked out when I was a baby and took care of us without their help. I didn’t see them much until I was fifteen, when I got accepted at a private school and mom couldn’t afford it. She still wanted me to have that opportunity though, so she made a deal with my grandparents and so Friday night dinner became a fixture in our lives. When I got into Yale mom could have paid, but I knew that it would mean giving up her dreams, so I made a deal of my own with my grandparents. It’s important for me to honor that, and if I have to cancel I want it to be because of something very important. **Not** a spoiled little brat,” she growled before adding one more truth:

“For a while there I was remembering every story I’ve ever heard about how I should never accept candy – or drinks – from strangers. And even though I’ve met him before Logan **is** practically a stranger. I know it’s kind of paranoid, but...”

Finn nodded.

“A little paranoid, maybe, but of the healthy variety. After all, a drugged drink **is** a possibility. I can’t see anyone in our particular crowd do something like that, but it’s good to be careful.”

Rory sent him a tired smile and relaxed a little, happy both that he understood and that he’d helped. Also, she was extremely grateful that she wouldn’t have to talk about **certain issues** any longer. Unfortunately relaxing only meant noticing that coffee and pills hadn’t taken care of her headache completely, and she winced slightly. Finn, of course, noticed – _Is there **anything** the guy misses?_ – and went to stand behind her. He placed his hands on either side of her head and started to softly massage her temples. While not as complete a massage as the last time the soft circles created by his fingers on her temples, forehead and scalp felt great and had the desired effect. Five minutes later when he stopped Rory actually felt human enough to brave the outside.

“It’s getting late, Finn, I should get going. Tomorrow may be a Saturday, but I’ve still got a to do-list a mile long. Thank you, really, for everything.” The look she sent him was meant to underscore that last part, make him see just how grateful she was for the whole juice-thing, and it seemed to do its job.

He nodded, smiled and shrugged.

“My pleasure, kitten. It’s not often, after all, that one gets to be a knight these days – outside of the Brigade that is,” his words accompanied by a wink and an exaggerated bow.

He walked her to the door, even though it was only a few steps from where they’d been sitting, opened it for her and gave her a goodbye hug. Then his face was transformed into a mask of mischievousness.

“You know, we didn’t get to test the best way to treat your headache tonight either. Oh, well. Next time will do,” and he bent forward slightly and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he passed her an umbrella and closed the door.

Rory was almost back at her own dorm before her blush was completely faded. Her dreams that night were very interesting.

~ To Be Continued ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’ve placed Rory’s birthday on a Wednesday, going with the fact that it was a Friday in 2000 (Season One) – and then I made the “mistake” of double-checking my facts. October 8th 2004 wasn’t a Wednesday – it was a Friday – just as it wasn’t a Friday in 2000. Still, I decided to go with canon instead of reality in this case because I really, really didn’t want to deal with the massive re-write...  
> Also, the solid massage bar mentioned is a real thing, sold by Lush.

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I’ll Remember You**

**Chapter Three – Lips**

_Well, happy birthday to you, Rory Gilmore._

The brunette stared at the dark, empty house in front of her. She’d expected to find her mother inside, fussing over take-out and one of Sookie’s cakes.

They’d made plans, just the Gilmore girls, to spend Rory’s twentieth birthday like so many others; dinner, movies and a qualified sugar-high, followed by Lorelai waking her up in the middle of the night to retell the story of her birth. Oh, at first Rory’s plans hadn’t included her mother, instead being all about Dean, but after the breakup she’d suggested that they should do something. It had been about more than her birthday though; it had been about trying to mend things between them. When Lorelai had agreed Rory had felt relieved. So, of course, when class had ended early she’d hurried to her car and set off for Stars Hollow.

When her phone started chirping just outside of town, indicating a new text message, she’d ignored it. After all, reading and driving didn’t really mix, so Rory had made a habit out of leaving them until she was parked. So far, it had been a good habit.

She’d opened the message as she walked into the house, not noticing that all the lights were off at first. Then she’d wondered if Lorelai had planned some kind of surprise party. That idea had lasted until she actually read the message. It had been from her mother.

“Emergency at the Inn, have to go back. We’ll reschedule.”

That had been 15 minutes ago. She’d walked back out to her car, gotten in and then just... well, shut down. Staring at the house where she and her mother had shared so many special moments Rory was slowly regaining her normal faculties. “Reschedule”? How did you reschedule a birthday? How did you reschedule something that was supposed to fix things, when backing out had even further widened the rift between two who’d once been so close?

And the house... it looked too dark. Too empty. Too many things too wrong.

She shook herself out of her funk, put the car in reverse and went to the one place that could make her feel good at that moment. Luke’s.

It didn’t work out quite as well as she’d hoped. Luke was surprised to see her. Happy, but surprised, which had left her with an uneasy feeling. Luke surprised that she was home for her birthday? Something about that felt very wrong, and Rory found herself thinking things and asking silent questions that didn’t help her peace of mind. Trying to silence that inner voice she focused on the burger Luke had served – just as tasty as ever – and the pot of coffee that had accompanied it, and silently calculated her chances of charming some chocolate chip pancakes out of her almost-step dad.

~ * ~ * ~

Returning to her dorm Rory felt a little better. Luke had not only made her those pancakes, but also given her a box of baked goods and a Thermos full of coffee. The sight that met her made her eyebrows rise: her door was full of flowers.

Her dad had sent a huge, flashy and obviously expensive bouquet – that was equally impersonal. He hadn’t even signed the card himself.

There was also a second bouquet that she’d missed at first, a much more discreet one. Small and consisting of white and pink daisies it practically disappeared next to her dad’s ridiculous gesture. Sure, she was happy that he’d remembered, but she would have preferred a thirty second call – at least that would have been personal. Not even managing to sign the card himself cheapened it all to the point of being worthless.

The daisies didn’t have a card, just a note; an uneven piece of paper with “Happy birthday” in a messy scrawl. She didn’t recognize the writing at all, and the only possibility her mind could come up with was Marty. It didn’t feel quite right though – he gave the impression of being the kind of guy who bought roses.

So. On one hand she had her dad’s expensive bouquet, ordered over the phone or Internet, that practically screamed “guilt”. On the other she had the anonymous, unassuming daisies from someone who’d actually made the effort to deliver them in person to her dorm.

The daisies ended up in her room, by her bed. The other flowers she left in the common room. As she drifted off to sleep she fervently hoped – almost prayed – that things would start to get better, soon.

~ * ~ * ~

They didn’t. The following week made her beg silently for some kind of relief, like say getting run over by a car and being hospitalized.

Phone calls from both her parents left her hurt and unsure about almost everything. School work left her reeling; stressed out and with a feeling of being inadequate, and Doyle’s comments on her work at the Yale Daily News had actually made her cry. Her head hurt more often than not, she was having trouble sleeping and dropping out was starting to look like a really good idea.

Friday night dinner was painful, as Emily and Richard had prepared a birthday celebration – even going so far as to team up for it – but Lorelai once more opted out. Rory’s reaction had been to spend the night in Hartford, and then go shopping with her grandmother the next day. The shopping trip had been her birthday present, and a very welcome one; a new, warm coat and a pair of equally warm boots for the coming winter had been exactly what she’d needed. Lunch at a luxurious restaurant had helped raise her spirits some, and it had been a slightly rejuvenated Rory that had made the decision to return to Yale instead of going to Stars Hollow, as planned.

That had been the reason for the not so fun call from her mother. The fact that Rory had claimed it was to prepare for her time as a mentor/guide for a Chilton student hadn’t even registered with Lorelai. The conversation had quickly gone from bad to worse, and finally Rory had ended it with a bitchy “Yeah, well, I guess we’ll reschedule”. She hadn’t needed to hear Lorelai’s response to know that their next meeting was going to be really bad.

Unfortunately no amount of preparation could have helped her handle the disaster that was “hurricane Anna”. Headmaster Charleston had described Anna Fairchild as a sort of “mini-Rory”. After spending less than two days with her Rory seriously questioned if he’d even met the girl. Yet, recent events had left Rory feeling numb, and barely able to react anymore. It all started to feel like a big joke.

So, the student she got to mentor was a bimbo, completely focused on college as fun instead of college as a learning experience? Of course she was. So, the world seemed to conspire against her to turn Anna’s stay at Yale into a complete catastrophe? Of course it did.

First Paris had unwittingly strengthened Anna’s picture of college by choosing that week to have a – possibly – one night stand with Doyle, and then Logan Huntzberger’s twisted sense of fun on top of that... Just thinking about it made her so angry her head pounded, even days later. Logan, accompanied by Finn – _that traitor_ – and Colin, had completely disrupted her class with a stunt, depicting her as someone stringing two guys along.

It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Rory when Anna slipped away for a party later that night, but it had. She wasn’t used to the Annas of the world, and certainly wasn’t made to deal with them. Rory guessed that she should really be grateful that the police had picked up the girl – who knew what would have happened otherwise – but it had still caused her too much trouble. Being lectured by headmaster Charleston wasn’t any more pleasant just because she wasn’t a Chilton student any longer. The fact that it hadn’t been Rory’s fault hadn’t helped at all.

Her grandmother had called the next day, since of course Mrs Charleston had called to inform her good friend Emily about “the incident”.

Rory had very nearly snapped when her grandmother had started chastising her, and took pride in the fact that she hadn’t. Nor had she screamed or hung up, as she would have liked, only calmly presented her side of the story. And it seemed miracles **did** still happen, because Emily had agreed with her. After all, when at Chilton Rory had been completely focused on college, and the right college, and Emily agreed that this was what Rory knew. Girls like her and Paris, goal orientated and going somewhere. The Annas of the world, girls who seemed to think the only difference between Yale and community college was in the status... Rory had no idea how to even try to relate to that.

And honestly? Harlin Charleston should have known this. But then again, he’d been known to show poor judgment before, Emily and Rory had agreed. The conversation had led to Emily taking Charleston to task, which had resulted in him calling Rory to... not exactly apologize, but at least smooth things over.

Still, it hadn’t helped her temper any, nor her headaches. She ate little white pills like they were candy, and was actually wishing for a reason to get into a fight. In fact, she’d gone out of her way the entire day to look for Logan, knowing that the obnoxious blond would give her a legitimate reason to explode within a minute. No such luck, though. Instead she was still angry, still had a hellish headache, and was spending her time growling at the essay on her computer screen. She’d just decided to give up and go to bed when the knock on the door came.

For once the blond was who she expected – who she wanted. She palmed a canister from her coat pocket and ripped the door open with a scowl on her face, prepared to tear his head of. Only it wasn’t Logan.

“Kitten.”

Her eyes narrowed, her back straightened and her hands twitched with the desire to slap him. Hard. Instead she started to close the door, without saying a word. Strangely enough she was even more angry with Finn than with Logan, who she just knew was the instigator of their little prank. Finn, who’d grabbed the door and was holding it open while his eyes were traveling over her body. He sported a growing grin that made her even more eager to slap him.

She knew exactly why he was smiling – she had, after all, dressed for bed and her choice of sleepwear was not exactly appropriate for mixed company. The boxers were okay, she thought, even if they showed more leg than she usually did. The tee however...

It had been a gift from her mother once upon a time, a gag gift bought in the hopes of making a thirteen year old Rory wear it to one of their less than frequent visits to the elder Gilmores – and that it would make Emily and Richard mad enough to provide an excuse to leave early. It hadn’t happened – instead the tee had spent years hidden in the closet until Rory had found herself desperate for a top to sleep in. It was comfortable, sure, but... to say it attracted attention was describing it mildly. If the hot pink color didn’t do the trick, the fact that these days it was a lot tighter than when she’d gotten it would. It showed off Rory’s curves in a way she normally avoided. And, finally, _la pièce de résistance_ : the bold glittery text “Life sucks. I don’t” covering the front.

Yeah. Not hard to figure out why Finn’s face was about to split in two. Not hard at all.

“You sure about that, kitten?” he leered with an unnerving grin.

“Maybe it just takes the right...”

She gave him an acidic look and could practically **feel** the smoke coming out of her ears. – Finn had just made her even more angry by grabbing the door and holding it open. With a growl she tried to pull the door free.

“Kitten? Rory. What’s wrong?”

He actually dared ask her what was wrong?

“Shut up, Finn. Whatever it is you have to say? I’m not interested. What gave you the idea that you’d be welcome here? Honestly, after that stunt you guys pulled I’m much more inclined to push you down a flight of stairs than be nice.”

“Kitten, I was stupid, I know, and I’m sorry. I really am. I’m fully prepared to beg your forgiveness. To grovel, even, just... perhaps not out here?”

She had a feeling that this was more for her benefit than his, and softened just a little. The anger was still in charge, though, as was – surprisingly – hurt.

“Please? I come bearing gifts,” he said, trying to tempt her into agreeing.

Rory thought about it. Turning down gifts was stupid, at least if they were any good. There was even a rule about it the official Gilmore Girls... _Not going there._ Anyway. Something **Finn** thought was a good birthday present should at least turn out interesting. Should it also be annoying or insulting, like say barely-there lingerie, she could always throw him out. Or, well, call campus security and have **them** throw him out.

“Fine. But this better be good,” she said and stepped aside. “I’m not guaranteeing anything – I’m too angry. In fact, given even half a reason I’d gladly break something – or some **one**.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t just about having your lecture interrupted.”

Rory lifted an eyebrow. She might have let him in, but in no way was she going to make this easy on him. He wasn’t stupid, he could figure it out.

“In my defense, kitten, I had nothing to do with the planning. Logan came up to me at the pub the evening before and told me the basics, along with something about making a girl smile. I wasn’t exactly sober and thought it sounded fun. I found out about it being you less than ten minutes before walking through that door, and refusing then...” He didn’t have to finish that sentence, because she knew just as well as he did that Finn backing out after hearing her name would have raised a lot of questions. Questions neither of them seemed willing to answer. So far no one knew about them speaking, or that Finn even remembered seeing her before. Somehow Rory didn’t think that Logan would like finding out that she preferred Finn’s company to his. Still...

“I realize that, Finn, I really do. But that doesn’t change the facts. Every time I’ve seen you lately, sorry, every time you’ve **talked** to me lately,” because Finn never even let on that he’d noticed her if either of them had company, “you’ve told me how I need to relax. In fact, you stood in that exact spot just a week before that little stunt and told me I had to stop stressing so much, or I’d end up in the hospital. You know how stressful things have been for me lately, like practically no one else. Now, what effect do you think that prank had on my stress-levels?”

It was a rhetorical question, and she didn’t give him even a second to try and answer it. Instead she started listing the complications.

“My lecture, one of only six, got disrupted. I’m on my professor’s ‘bad’ list and several of my classmates are really angry with me since they too were actually interested in what our professor was talking about. The girl I was showing Yale to completely got the wrong idea, and took your stunt as an excuse for acting stupid – which, I might add, led to her getting picked up by the police. Both my former headmaster and my grandmother called to chew me out about it.  
Everyone in that class, and everyone they talk to, think I’m either some two-timing hussy or one of Logan’s floozies. As a result half the girls want to strangle me, one of my best friends got hurt and I’ve got Logan prancing around, thinking he’s Prince Charming and I’m about to fall at his feet. He actually tried to placate me by offering to use his dad’s friendship with my professor to get me some one-on-one time instead of my lecture. I have no idea what he expected in return, but he completely disregarded my feelings and told me that ‘angry looks sexy on you’, or something equally sexist and disgusting!”

“Kitten, calm down. I get it, I do. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. But just as you said I can’t change it now, I can only apologize, and promise not to do something that stupid again. I was coming over to apologize, even though I didn’t realize you’d be this angry. Also,” and he reached inside his coat, “I wanted to give you these. Happy belated birthday, kitten.”

He held out two packages wrapped in plain brown paper with blue ribbon, and Rory only hesitated for a few seconds before accepting them. The first contained coffee – really good coffee judging by the smell – and a box of chocolate truffles. She didn’t recognize the brands, but it looked like they were neither cheap nor ridiculously expensive. The second held a heavy cloth bag of some kind.

“It’s a hot-bag. It contains buckwheat and you heat it up in the microwave, or the oven, and place it on your shoulders – or some other place that hurts. The heat relaxes the muscles, and the lavender inside is supposed to be calming.  
I realize that this wouldn’t be considered a ‘proper’ gift in most society circles, because you’re supposed to get a girl flowers and jewelry and such, but my grandmother always told me that a good gift is something that the person in question would get for themselves if they’d had the opportunity. I thought you’d appreciate this more than earrings or such.”

He had a point. Oh, a pair of earrings could have been really nice – but it was more likely she’d have ended up feeling uneasy and indebted. She had a problem seeing Finn buy her a pair of five dollar earrings – and something more expensive than that would have made her feel resentful. Plus, seeing as money was an issue – again – she would have been very much tempted to accept a too expensive pair only to sell it. Coffee and chocolate, however, was just right on all accounts – and most likely what she would have spent the fictive earring-money on. The hot-bag, well, that was just considerate.

So. He’d not only gone to the trouble of getting her a gift – or several – but had also given some actual thought as to what she’d like and need. He hadn’t flaunted his money, like certain others would have, **and** he’d apologized. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

What else was there to say? A “thank you” didn’t seem enough, but she felt she was excused given the circumstances.

“You’re welcome. Now, about that stress? Would you like me to try and deal with it? Not to be rude, but you’re so tense I wouldn’t be surprised to find out you’re living on pain meds.”

He was offering a massage. It was likely either part of the apology or the gift, or both, but Rory realized she probably needed it. Finn wasn’t right about the meds, but he was close enough. She didn’t want to admit it, though, as she was still angry with him.

“Look, You’re tense, yeah? And you’re in pain because of it – and if you’re not, then it’s only because you’re drugged up. I can help. And seeing as it **is** partly my fault...”

He made it so hard to say no. His voice was soft and warm – just like she remembered his hands – and she was in **pain**. Lots and lots of pain. She’d been eating the maximum amount of painkillers for way too long, and they’d been reduced from pain **killers** to pain **dullers** – was that even a word? Plus, he **was** to blame. Sort of.

What finally made the last of her resistance melt away was that she knew from experience that she would feel a lot better afterwards – probably even to the point where she’d actually get a good nights sleep and wake up with a clear head.

“I should still be angry with you, you know. I really should. Only, I’m too tired, and my head is killing me. So, yes please, a massage sounds great.”

“Excellent. Then I suggest we relocate to your room. Nice flowers, by the way,” and he looked at her dad’s flashy offering. “Logan send them?”

Rory’s anger spiked again. Why did he have to keep bringing up Logan? It seemed like every time she spoke to Finn there would some little hint about his blond friend, and it bugged her. Really, really bugged her.

“No. Why would he be sending me flowers? It’s not like he even knows about my birthday” _then, come to think about it, neither should you,_ “and even if he did there would be no reason.” Then she **looked** at the flowers again, and her anger was replaced by a giggle.

“Oh. Now I see it. That really is the kind of bouquet Logan would send, isn’t it? Ostentatious, ridiculously expensive and without a clue as to what the recipient actually likes. It wasn’t Logan, Finn, but I’m starting to understand why you thought so. Huh.”

She shook her head, muttered “self-absorbed brat” under her breath, and returned her focus to Finn. It was obvious that he was still curious, but smart enough not to push. She decided to have mercy on him – why she wasn’t really sure.

“That happens to be my dad’s latest stupidity, okay? Let’s not talk about it.”

“Sound like there’s a story there, but if you don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t. Let’s take care of you instead,” he said and pulled out a small metallic box from his coat pocket.

“What’s that?”

“This, kitten, is a really practical thing: non-liquid massage oil. It’s in a bar, and you use the heat from your hands to melt it. This way it can be carried around without a mess, plus you save plastic – no bottle – and this one’s made from all natural ingredients. Plus, it smells great.”

She giggled softly. A practical, environmental friendly Finn? Wow. He really was full of surprises, showing her new aspects of his personality every time they talked. How could she even **try** to stay angry with him?

“You’re really something else, Finn. So, do I sit beside the bed?” She was already moving in that direction.

“No, I think it would be better if you lie down. But first we need a towel, a large one. That one will do,” and he spread it over the bed. “Now, lose the top and lie down on your stomach.”

Rory shook her head. She couldn’t have heard him right, could she? She wanted her to...

“What?”

“Take of the tee. Look, kitten, I’m being practical here. Sure, I could just do your neck and shoulders, like last time, but honestly? That’s not really what you need. Your problems are a little more serious than that, and to deal with them properly I need better access. Which means no t-shirt – not even that one,” he said with a smirk.

Rory felt her face go up in flames. She should have **known** he wasn’t going to give it up that easily...

Still, Finn’s logic was sound. She needed the massage he was offering, and if being more thorough meant going a little longer without headache and sore shoulders? She could show a little skin for that. Just...

“Turn around.” The command was followed by a death glare, only Finn had already turned his head. Not wanting to view that particular gift horse’s teeth she hurriedly took of the top and laid down on the bed. The fire returned to her cheeks as he sat on his knees, straddling her with one long leg on each side of her body, almost resting on her thighs. Burying her face in the mattress, her nostrils slowly filling with the scent from the melting massage bar, Rory listened to Finn explaining how this would give him complete access.

Finn’s hands were even better than she remembered. Coated with the now liquid oil they moved slowly along her back, and not even the fact that it hurt enough for her to softly moan with pain stopped those hands from feeling like heaven. Rory wanted nothing more than for Finn to continue. It was a **good** pain. She was by no means ready to join any masochistic movement, but this kind of pain she thought she could deal with on a regular basis. After all, it might hurt right then, but the next day would be free from pain. _If this is how Finn apologizes_ , she groggily thought, _I can take him being an ass every now and then_. And God, she was practically purring...

Time meant nothing; Finn had gone on for hours, or had just gotten started – she couldn’t say. Minutes and seconds lost their meaning, and the only thing that mattered was the path Finn’s fingers were taking across her back. From the lining of her boxers to the nape of her neck; from the spine and out across her sides. Over and over again. Her muscles loosened, the pain lessened, and now her whimpering was only because it felt **sooo** good.

When Finn shifted his position and quietly told her to roll over, Rory didn’t think, she just did. The pain returned as he started working new muscles, but it wasn’t as bad and she knew it would soon fade. The consequences of her new position didn’t register at first, and neither did Finn going from massaging her to caressing her. His hands were just as magical and talented moving over her breasts as they’d been when taking care of her knotted muscles. Rory’s head was just as clouded, too. She was simply caught up in feeling **really** good, and when Finn leaned down to kiss her she eagerly followed his lead.

It wasn’t until Finn’s right hand dipped beneath the lining of her boxers that she **really** got what was going on. This wasn’t just feeling good, this was making out with Finn while being half naked – and the situation was quickly getting out of hand. It wasn’t just his hand, it was his mouth doing things – _amazing_ things – to her breast, and the feel of him against her thigh. It was a wake-up call all right, a proverbial bucket of water thrown in her face, instantly cooling her down. What they’d been doing had felt great, but Finn was heading somewhere she wasn’t ready to go. She tried to pull back, disentangled her hand from his hair – _when did that end up there?_ – and pushed against his shoulder.

“Finn, don’t.”

His hand stopped moving, but stayed in place, a fraction of an inch from its goal. His head lifted from her breast and he looked straight at her. His lips were red and swollen, his eyes almost black and slightly unfocused, and he looked... **hungry**. Suddenly a flash of fear hit her. Finn was bigger and stronger than her, and also he was on top of her. What if he didn’t stop? There was no way she’d be able to force him. But he wouldn’t, surely he wouldn’t. Right? She swallowed hard, and tried to stay – relatively – calm.

“Kitten?” His voice was husky, _sexy_ , and sounded confused.

“Please. I’m... I don’t...” The words wouldn’t come. “Just, please, stop.”

A part of her wasn’t sure he’d listen. Another, small and quickly buried, didn’t really want him to. Still, he did, shifting into a sitting position. Once he was gone Rory covered herself with the first thing she could find. It turned out to be a pillow, and felt extremely inadequate, not to mention stupid. When Finn handed picked up her t-shirt and handed it to her along with a blanket she happily accepted both and dressed quickly while he turned to give her some privacy.

“Mind telling me what’s wrong, kitten?”

“I’m sorry, Finn, I really am. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I **really** didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression, things just...” _really, really got out of control,_ “happened, I guess. I realize this might sound hard to believe, considering...” she blushed and waved her hand, “but I’m not in the habit of, well, **this**.”

Finn wasn’t looking at her, not directly, but it wasn’t too hard to notice that he seemed to have trouble understanding – or believing – her, and Rory tried to find the right words without resorting to baring her soul.

“Look, I’m neither blind nor stupid. I know how... ehm, ‘easy’ most of your circle of friends seem to be when it comes to relationships. That’s not me. I’ve had a grand total of two boyfriends, which among other things means I don’t fall into bed half-naked with guys I barely know. Sorry, but that’s the truth.” _Or at least part of it_ , her inner voice supplied. “One night stands, sex to ‘scratch an itch’? It’s not who I am. Kissing you was nice, like really **really** nice, but... I...” _I’m way out of my comfort zone, and seriously freaked out here._ “Sorry,” she repeated.

“Don’t apologize, that should be me. I tend to be a bit oblivious at times, but even a blind man would notice that you’re different. I was too forward, yeah? I acted on impulse, not thinking, and that was stupid. But, kitten? I’m not going to apologize for kissing you, or for finding you attractive. Going too far, too fast, yes, but not the rest.”

He was looking at her now, still in that hungry way, and Rory shivered slightly. His words were echoing in her head, bouncing around and neither slowing down nor making much sense. The only thing she was sure of was that **something** had changed.

“You don’t have to worry about me telling Logan about this, though; I promise I won’t. I...”

And suddenly she wasn’t confused any more, she was just angry and seeing red.

“You promise not to tell? How noble of you! And here I didn’t even realize I had to worry about that – because in my book that goes without saying. **Why** would you tell him? First of all, this is private – or it **should** be – and second, it’s none of his business. Sure, I don’t want him to know, but that’s because he’s enough of a pain already. Also, I don’t want any of those guys to know. As I said, **private**. Or is that concept completely foreign to you people? God, Finn, I...”

Rory’s voice just died down. She had no idea what to say, and felt the need to calm down. She closed her eyes, breathed through her mouth and **forced** her body to relax. When she felt she’d gotten as far as she could she opened her eyes and glared at Finn.

“Now, are you done ruining this evening for me? Because honestly, right now I’m almost as angry as when you first showed up – an amazing feat, really. I didn’t even think it was possible.”

He looked... not exactly ashamed, but something like it, with more than a hint of surprise and regret. How he looked wasn’t important though, just that he nodded agreement.

“I’m sorry, Rory,” her eyebrows shot up at his use of her real – _well, more real_ – name, “I truly am. Looks like I’m suffering from shoe-in-the-mouth syndrome – not for the first time either. I won’t tell anyone, I promise, and I truly am sorry. For, well, not for **every** thing, but... you know. I’ll let you go to sleep now, you need it. Night, kitten.”

“Night, Finn.”

Once he was out of the dorm Rory double-checked that the doors were locked before crawling into bed. As it turned out, calming down enough to sleep was practically impossible. An hour later she was still staring at the ceiling after having tried every relaxation technique she’d ever heard about. Her mind was buzzing with questions, as well as flares of anger and embarrassment, and she simply **could not** get Finn out of her head.

Another hour found her at her laptop, typing furiously and adding scalding arguments to her next essay, hoping this would quiet her mind. It didn’t. It refused to shut down, or even slow down, and Rory took out all her frustration on her work. She had a feeling that both her professor and Doyle – she was multitasking – would be shocked with her work.

Three and a half hours after Finn had walked out the door Rory was still wide awake, but so tired she was on the verge of throwing up. She was back in bed, buried under blankets and her duvet, shivering with nausea and lack of sleep. Still, even though actual sleep seemed bent on avoiding her she tried to relax and at least let her body get some rest. Her eyes refused to stay closed and flicked through the room, from her bedside table to her desk to her dresser to... And then they flicked back. Her desk. The daisies.

Finn hadn’t said **anything** about the daisies. He’d noticed them, she was sure of it, but unlike her dad’s flashy bouquet they hadn’t gotten a comment. Could **he** be the one who’d left them? She couldn’t be sure, not without asking, but it made sense in a weird way.

Relaxing got a little easier after that thought, but sleeping was still a no-no. She was treated with flashes of their make out session, as well as reruns of their every conversation, and she found herself longing for understanding.

Classes that day were hellish. Not only because she hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, or because she’d passed even **her** limit for coffee, but because the universe seemed to conspire against her. She shared her first class with Marty, who was still upset about last weeks prank and refused to believe she had no interest in Logan Huntzberger.  
Her second class turned incredibly embarrassing when, due to a brain mushy from lack of sleep, she tried to claim that the Vietnam War had affected events in 18th century England, and her final class... Professor Bell was still unhappy with how last week’s class had been disrupted, and took it out on her. Being referred to as “the infamous miss Gilmore” was **not** going to make the gossip die down, and neither would the request that she keep her “boyfriends” out of his classroom.

To top it all off, like icing on her cake, on the way back to her dorm she ran into Logan. He didn’t even stop to notice Rory’s growing anger, just kept pestering her to go somewhere with him and as usual he refused to accept “no”. Finally Rory snapped.

“Logan. Shut up, and pay attention. I’ve had an extremely bad day, and a lot of it is because you’re an attention seeking, insensitive, selfish ass. With the possible exception for my ex boyfriend, and I’m stressing the ‘possible’, you’re the last person I want to see at the moment.  
Now, I’m going to my dorm to get some sleep. And God help you, any attempt to stop me, or follow me, any lecherous comments about beds or how ‘angry suits me’... Let’s just say that will most likely end in me trying to find something heavy to rearrange your face with. Okay? Great. Bye now,” she finished her rant in saccharine tones and walked away. Logan showed more intelligence that she’d thought possible and stayed where he was.

The next day it was Finn crossing her path. This time she didn’t explode. She simply turned the other way, hid her blush as best she could, and pretended he wasn’t there. Silently she vowed to keep doing just that until she stopped blushing and figured out what the hell he was on about.

Also, she admitted reluctantly, she needed to figure out what **she** was doing. She had changed, she knew, over the past years; slowly and irrevocably changing from Lorelai’s daughter into something, some **one** more. The changes had been coming more quickly though, these past months being like a whirlwind. Being with Finn... It was another sign of how she had changed. After all, the Rory of old would never have been found with an almost stranger – with a reputation for being somewhat a player – kissing her naked breasts.

The question was whether she had started to change in the wrong direction. She needed to figure out that as well before seeing Finn again. 

At Friday night dinner her mother made a surprising appearance and acted like nothing could possibly be wrong, while her grandparents acted like teenagers, announcing that they were back together and would be renewing their wedding vows the following Saturday.

And Rory? She just wished for some peace and quiet, and above all normalcy. She should have been careful – should have remembered the results of her latest wish.

To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Canon places the party for Seymour Hersh on a Friday. That didn’t work with my vision, and so instead I’m placing it Tuesday in the same week as the vow renewal – five days later than canon if my math is correct._

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I'll Remember You**

**Chapter Four – Body**

Saturday morning Rory woke up to a text message. It was from her dad, informing her that his father had died Thursday night. The fact that Chris had chosen to text her instead of calling was upsetting. Yes, she’d blown him off the last time he’d called – but only because he’d hurt her. Hearing her dad explain that her birthday hadn’t been a priority – again – because something more important had come up – again – had been anything but fun. She’d told him not to call again until he’d done some growing up, but honestly! There were exceptions to every rule. Shouldn’t a thirty-six year old man – father of two – know this?

Then again... Christopher Hayden was many things, but a grown-up wasn’t one of them. Part of becoming an adult, Rory thought, was that you started seeing your parents as **people** , flaws and everything, instead of the icons of childhood. Her dad might never have been much of a parent, making that shift in perspective easier, but he was still her father, and she still loved him. That meant that for now, **she** had to be the mature and responsible one. Especially since she **could** see why he’d chosen his dying father over his eldest daughter. Yes, it still hurt. Yes, she still expected him to change. But now simply wasn’t the time to press the issue. 

Thirty minutes later she was packed for the weekend and on the road. Luckily Chris was still staying with his mother in Hartford – and even more luckily Francine had gone out of town for a few days – which meant she didn’t have to drive that far.

Chris had been pathetically happy to see her, obviously not daring to believe she would actually come until he could see it, and it had been surprisingly easy to spend time with him. _If things could only be like this always,_ Rory thought, _then we could have a **real** father-daughter relationship..._

Rory’s luck ran out at eight in the evening, when Lorelai showed up with a poorly concealed bottle of tequila. She really didn’t want to leave her parents together, especially not with alcohol – she remembered other occasions where that same combination had ended badly – but when her dad told her it was okay to leave there wasn’t much else to do. Sure, she could have spoken her mind, but truthfully? She didn’t think “I don’t trust the two of you not to screw up” would go over that well. Also, her parents **did** have a long history – and most of Chris’ friends had slipped away over the years. Maybe he could use Lorelai’s company. Maybe it would work out. Maybe her mom wouldn’t live up to Rory’s fears...

So, she hugged her dad, told him to call if he needed anything and accepted the bills he handed her – in lieu of a birthday present – and drove off trying to ignore the feeling of dread in her stomach. After all, her dad’s weakest spot **was** the girl he’d loved at sixteen and the woman she’d grown into. Still, Rory hoped nothing would happen. Not just because of Lorelai’s relationship with Luke, and the pain an infidelity would cause him, but also because Rory truly had come to believe that the biggest obstacle when it came to her dad growing up was her mom...

And she would have felt so much more relaxed had she believed that Luke knew about his girlfriend’s whereabouts...

~ * ~ * ~

“Gilmore! I need you, now!” And without further ado Rory found herself dragged out the door she had just entered, to the Yale Daily News newsroom, by an unusually agitated Paris. Something was obviously very wrong.

“Nice to see you too,” she said sarcastically, “what is it this time?”

“Doyle is about to implode, as in ‘it’s almost time to call the ambulance’ implode. Mitchum Huntzberger showed up, wondering why Logan doesn’t have more bylines. Everyone knows it’s because he’s too lazy to do the work, but that’s not exactly something you tell Mitchum. So Doyle panicked, and told him he expected to see a big feature signed Logan Huntzberger in next weeks edition, just to get Mitchum off his back. It worked – only now Doyle needs Logan to actually deliver, because **naturally** it’s not Logan’s ass on the line if that article doesn’t appear as promised.”

“And I should care because...?”

“Come on, Rory. While apparently Logan has the talent this particular assignment needed quite a bit of research and **that** he won’t have done. Your article, the one about the dissatisfaction of the faculty with the tenure system? I saw the research you did, and I’m pretty sure Logan could use most of it.”

“So? Look, Paris, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t listen to gossip. I really have no interest what so ever in Logan Huntzberger, and no reason to help him. In fact, I have every reason **not** to, because helping him might make it even harder to get rid of him.”

“Then don’t see it as helping Logan. See it as helping Doyle,” and talking all over Rory’s protests, “and helping Doyle means helping me. You should help your friends, right? And am I not your friend, Rory?”

Rory hesitated. Paris was right, they were friends and that sort of meant she was obliged to help out. And she would have, without a doubt, if only it hadn’t meant Logan...

“Look, I’ll make it worth your while. Dinner, from that Indian place you love? And oh! I know, I promise Doyle and I won’t have sex at our dorm for the rest of the week. Just, please?”

“Fine, I’ll do it. But if he becomes even more of a pain after this you’re going to have to help me scare him away,” Rory warned, knowing that the other girl had a much better chance at getting the job done.

“Yes! Just... don’t tell Doyle I asked you, okay?”

Rory didn’t, even though she was hard pressed to find an excuse for her willingness to help as she hadn’t exactly been known for her tolerance when it came to the blond playboy. She cursed Paris silently, but perked up a little when Doyle told her about a party Mitchum Huntzberger was throwing for Seymour Hersh. The man was one of her favorite authors, and she would love to meet him – although of course she’d never thought it possible. 

But, things were different now. It could be possible. Logan had asked her out on several occasions, and if he really was interested, like people thought... wouldn’t he jump at the possibility to get her to agree? If Rory let on how much she admired Seymour Hersh, then Logan just might invite her to come along. It wasn’t a pretty thought, Rory admitted, but if she was going to not only be blackmailed into helping Logan but also be subjected to his ego more than necessary, then was it really wrong for her to get something out of it?

Twenty-seven hours later her answer to that question was “yes”. Logan had picked up on the fact that she would love to go to that party and meet Seymour Hersh, all right, and had dangled an almost-invitation in front of her for nearly an hour. All she needed to do, Rory suspected, was ask prettily – or more like beg – and she would be in. There was just this... something about Logan’s attitude that made her back off. She was reminded of the expression “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch” and decided that with Logan Huntzberger this would probably be even more true than usual.

But she didn’t want to let Logan in on the fact that she really had been angling for an invitation – petty, yes, but it felt like the smart thing to do – and gave him a huge smile.

“I really think you should go, Logan. After all, you’re surrounded by people who would practically kill for an opportunity like this. You’re getting a lot for free that the rest of us can only dream of, and to not use that? It’s an insult to every aspiring journalist around.”

“And you, Ace? Are you one of those who’d kill for this opportunity?”

“No, I’m not that bad. I’d give a lot, though, and that you’re even thinking of not going makes me really angry. I’d switch with you in a heartbeat, if I could. Instead I’ll be in front of my laptop, finishing an assignment for class tomorrow. Think about it. Famous, interesting author and journalist or a paper for class. It’s a no-brainer, Logan – at least to the rest of the world.”

“A paper due tomorrow, and you’re not done? I can’t believe it! You’re kidding me right? Surely you have the evening free for, say, a trip to New York?”

There. The invitation she had wanted so badly – and now she wished he hadn’t said the words.

“Sorry, no. I admit, it **was** finished, but then I saw this article this morning, and it gave me a few ideas that will turn my B- paper into one worthy of an A.” And it was all true too, Rory thought, except for the fact that she’d spent every free minute that day trying to get the work done – clearing her evening for New York, just in case. What Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her though...

“I’m just sorry I have most of my books back at Stars Hallow, otherwise I would have black-mailed you into getting my copy of ‘My Lai Four’ autographed for me. Ah, well, obviously it wasn’t meant to be. Now, you have a nice evening, okay? I really have to leave – that paper won’t rewrite itself!”

And without giving Logan the opportunity to try and talk her out of it she walked away, a satisfied smile on her face. Yes, she had originally wanted him to ask her out, but it hadn’t taken much for Logan to remind her of exactly why she’d spent so much of her time lately trying to avoid him.

And speaking of avoiding she hadn’t seen Finn at all in four days...

~ * ~ * ~

_The nerve of that idiot!_ An hour after Logan had cornered her at the vow renewal Rory still seethed with anger. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so naive as to believe that “getting some air” actually meant **getting some air** but, well, she had. So when Logan had pulled her into the coat room instead of going outside she’d been surprised enough not to immediately start protesting and questioning his actions. Of course Logan – _that self-absorbed, conceited ass!_ – had taken her silence for agreement and had gotten straight to the point. The “point” being trying to get her jacket and blouse off.

 _Where on earth did he get the idea that I wanted **that**?_ Apart from making a bit of an idiot of herself over the possibility of meeting an author – and really, that shouldn’t count, because it was Seymour Hersh, and who in their right mind **didn’t** go a little crazy over Seymour Hersh? – she’d given Logan no indication she was interested.

Now, being practically assaulted by Logan had been bad enough, but unfortunately from there on it had only gotten worse. Before she’d had the time to get away from him Lorelai had come barging in – on a mission to find Rory for some pictures Emily had wanted. And, naturally considering the way Rory’s luck was running, she’d believed Rory to be a willing participant. **Then** her dad and Luke had come after Lorelai, and had added their two cents. Strangely, she hadn’t minded Luke’s anger so much – she knew he only cared – but her dad? Yeah right. Well, to be fair he probably did care, but he had no clue what she wanted. He hadn’t stopped to find out either – he never had.

And then the argument had become about Lorelai, about how “everyone knew” that Chris and Lorelai were meant for each other and how Luke really should get lost. Which he had. Rory hadn’t stayed around to watch the fall-out between her parents, not wanting to know yet afraid that she already did, but had instead begged her grandfather to arrange transportation for her to New Haven – all the while swearing silently about her decision to drink instead of drive. Still, she’d been sent back in the limo that had been waiting for her grandparents – “There’s time for that yet, dear, just go” – and now she was back at Yale.

She hadn’t gone to her place though, for some reason, and was now standing outside Finn’s door – pounding on it with one hand while holding a “liberated” bottle of champagne in the other. So, it wasn’t quite full – she’d started on it during the ride back – but there was more than enough left. For two, even, should she be inclined to share.

When Finn finally opened she just brushed past him without as much as a “hello”, still angry and partly taking it out on him – he was a guy, and guys were why she was mad; ergo she was mad at Finn. Simple logic, or what passed for it right then. That it wasn’t logical for her to be at Finn’s place if she really was mad at him didn’t quite register. Instead she walked over to his kitchenette, grabbed a glass and filled it with champagne. She was going to offer Finn some, she honestly was, only he had to go and open his mouth first.

“So, kitten. To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company? I thought you were spending the weekend at home?”

“I was. Something happened.”

“Something? Something big, I guess?”

“Logan bloody Huntzberger, that’s what happened. Him and my dad. Either one of those two could ruin an evening, but together... God, they should be registered as a lethal weapon. I’m used to my dad by now, it’s not like it’s unusual for him to mess up, but Logan? That’s just too much. The idiot actually kissed me!” Rory practically spat the last words out, feeling her vision cloud over from anger. That had happened a lot since “the incident”.

“Oh? And that’s a reason to be upset? From what I’ve heard most girls think he’s really good at it. Besides, didn’t you spend Tuesday practically begging him to take you out?” Finn’s voice was even, too even, and Rory exploded.

“Don’t be an idiot, Finn! Do you take everything Logan says as unquestionable truths? About Tuesday, he asked me to go to this party with him – at least I’m pretty sure that’s what he was doing – and sure, I would have loved to attend that party, but **not** with Logan. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I was better off back at my dorm studying. Do you know why he thinks I was begging? I told him what a great opportunity he had, and that not only would he be an idiot if he missed it, but also that it was disrespectful to those of us who don’t have his connections. In reality I was only spending time with him because Paris bribed me.” She spotted Finn’s unbelieving look.

“Yeah, that’s right. Logan’s father made Doyle freak, and since that makes **Paris** freak... she offered me dinner and our dorm as a sex-free zone for a week. I wasn’t going to give that up **and** disappoint a friend just to avoid feeding Logan’s ego.  
And as for the rest, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I don’t even care if he’s the best kisser this side of the equator! All I care about right now is that he kissed me without giving as much as a moments thought to whether or not I wanted him to. He dragged me into an empty room and just started **pawing** at me! When I tried to push him away, well, apparently he thought it was cute! Guys acting like that? That’s not charming; that’s why Luke gives me a years supply of mace every fall.”

Finn’s eyes widened. He understood exactly where she was getting.

“Look, kitten, don’t... I really don’t think he meant it like that.”

“Maybe he didn’t. Well, okay, **probably** he didn’t. That still doesn’t make it right, or make me feel less violated. And I’m the one who gets to say what I feel, Finn.”

“You’re right, I can’t tell you how to react. But I can tell you how Logan works, and it’s not like that. He thought you wanted it, otherwise he wouldn’t have kissed you.” The chock had passed, and again he was back to that too even, unbelieving voice. 

Rory looked at Finn, her eyes slightly narrowed. He was doing it again. From day one, more or less, Finn had hinted at her being interested in Logan Huntzberger, and every time she had told him she wasn’t he’d acted like “Oh, sure, I hear you. I just don’t believe you”. For some reason she just couldn’t figure out Finn seemed to believe she wanted Logan, that she was happy about his forced attention and that she was actually going to become one of those bimbos waiting in line. Oh, he never **said** it, not straight out, but it sure was implied. All his hints came together to just that.

And the worst part? It was also beginning to sound like Finn thought she was using him as some sort of “ticket” to Logan Huntzberger.

Normally she’d let it slide, not wanting to argue or have to explain herself – it wasn’t like it mattered to Finn what she felt or for whom, right? – but tonight she’d simply **had it** with people thinking they knew better than her about her life.

“Finn? I get that Logan’s thinking all he has to do is ask and I’ll fall at his feet, because really, he sure proved that he believes so tonight. I don’t get why, but that’s not the point here. The big question here is why do **you** think so? Is there any reason why you’re so insistent on thinking I’m lying about my non-interest when it comes to him? It’s getting old you know.”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, clearly more than a bit surprised at what she was saying. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

“You wouldn’t be the first girl to claim not to have an interest in Logan, only to try and make herself more desirable. The thrill of the chase and all that, thinking that they’ll play hard to get and Logan will get interested. It works, sure, but never in the long run. Normally, of course, those girls are a bit different, but… You **do** want to be a reporter, and well, Logan’s family and connections could be more than useful.”

Rory was starting to see red again, and her anger was no longer about transference; it was all about Finn now.

“Finn. Shut up and pay attention.” Her voice was low and even, but the edge it carried was clear enough to shut Finn up immediately. “Okay? Good. Now, first of all, as for the whole ‘Huntzberger as in Huntzberger Media Group’ thing? While I’d love to meet Mitchum Huntzberger and pick his brains I wouldn’t date Logan just for that purpose, not to mention sleep with him for it. It’s not who I am.” Still, Finn had that same look on his face, the one that had set off her rant. So she decided to be extremely blunt.

“I won’t be a whore, Finn.” There was a warning there, as well as a promise of pain and suffering should Finn continue down that path.

He was looking shocked and a bit more receptive now, so Rory softened her voice and tried to explain.

“Sure, Logan’s not unattractive. He’s good-looking – **if** you like the type – and he’s not stupid, in fact, when he wants to he shows real talent. But he’s not what I want. And I’m sure about that, I’ve thought it through. After Dean dumped me he was so nice, and I started thinking that maybe… Then I had a really good time with him at that Life and Death Brigade event I covered, and I felt an attraction. So I did what I always do: I made a pro/con list. Or I started to.  
Because when the first thing that popped up in my head was ‘Mom’s not going to like it’ it got tough. Was that supposed to be a pro or a con? Once I would’ve stopped at that, not even wanting to consider dating someone my mom didn’t approve of. But the way things have been… Then, should I see it as a reason to go after him? It would make mom furious for sure, and that suddenly held a lot of appeal for me. But dating a guy, or even liking him, to make my mom mad? So not me.” Rory shrugged. And then a crooked, slightly mean smile flew across her face.

“Also, after a little while it just hit me. Logan’s seemed so familiar from day one, and I’ve always blamed it on the T2-factor. But it’s more than that. It’s **so** much more than being a cocky blond with too much money who’s given me an annoying nickname. It’s the fact that he’s my dad.”

“Huh?”

“Well, not like **that** , obviously, but… If my dad had been younger he would have been Logan’s best friend, I’m sure of it. They’re so much alike it’s scary. And I’ve seen what getting involved with my dad did to my mom. I don’t want that. I want more. I **deserve** more. Sure, I’ll make mistakes. I’ll screw up and be with the wrong guy again, I’m positive. But to enter a relationship that I **know** will end badly? That I know will most likely place me where my mom is now – except for the pregnancy, god forbid – and that can so easily be avoided? That would just be stupid. And once I realized that, well, Logan stopped being attractive. Still looks good, but… It’s kind of like looking at an attractive **girl**. And honestly? If I wanted **that** , well, I’d go for Paris. She’s a decent kisser and at least with her I **know** I’d be treated decently afterwards.”

Finn seemed speechless. _I’ve finally done it_ , she thought. _I’ve shut Finn up. Wow. This must be a day for the history books._ He just sat there, looking pole axed, and stayed silent. The minutes ticked by, and Rory sipped her champagne. _Really, all it took was some honesty? Huh, got to file that for future need._ Still, maybe it was time to be nice. Or not...

“Finn? Look, I hate to be this rude, but honestly? I’ve had my share of jerks tonight, and I can’t take another. So if you plan on staying that way... Just tell me, and I’ll go home, okay?”

“Nah, kitten, don’t worry. I’ll be good now. Promise.” A slight smirk followed. “At least, I promise to be kind of good.” A suggestive eyebrow-lift made her realize Finn was back to normal – the sexual teasing was back on. Which, come to think about it, had been absent since that evening in her room when they’d kissed...

“Any chance of you sharing that champagne?”

And then they just sat there, sipping their drinks in silence, with Rory’s thoughts going all over the place. She was brought back to reality as Finn stood up, stretched slightly – revealing a **nice** set of abs – and pushed his hand through his hair, messing it up even more.

“I need a shower,” he stated, and walked over to a cabinet. Rory just stared.

Having grabbed a towel Finn headed for the door, pausing just as he was to exit the room, turned slightly and sent her a smirk: “Feel like joining me?”

It was Rory’s turn to be struck silent. He looked at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and shrugged. “No? Oh, well, that’s a pity. If you change your mind though, you know where to find me.” A wink and he was gone.

Rory stared at the door, not knowing what to think. Her mind was racing; her subconscious working hard to provide her with images in full Technicolor. Take a shower with Finn. Meaning they’d get naked and wet and… well, naked! Together. Naked Finn. Wet, beautiful, naked Finn… Her eyes slightly glazed Rory shook her head. Yeah, okay, she found Finn attractive. A lot more so than Logan, actually. And that night in her room when a massage had ended with them making out had given her lots of food for not only thought but also daydreams. But to do this? To join him in the shower? That would be madness. It would surely not end with some kisses and touching, no, it would give Finn the go-ahead for a lot more. And Rory Gilmore didn’t do things like that. She didn’t take showers with random guys, no matter how attractive – didn’t in fact take showers with anyone. So why did her brain obsess with the possibilities?

Also, there were the intruding thoughts that his offer meant something, something more than what was on the surface. Apart from that one time, when they’d both gone overboard and for which Finn later had apologized, he’d never been this blatant before. Teased, sure. Flirted, most definitely. But not like this and not since then. She felt it had to mean something that he’d suddenly chosen to do so, and that he’d only done so after she’d told him in no uncertain terms about Logan not being an option. There was something there, she knew it. But what? And how important was it?

There was no chance she’d figure out what it was there and then, though, and so she focused on Finn’s offer instead of the reasons for it. She wasn't stupid. Naive, yes, at times, but not stupid. She knew that if she joined Finn they’d most likely end up in his bed not too long after. And again, that wasn’t a Rory-thing to do. But was it something she **wanted**? Did she want Finn, consequences be damned, or not? If she did, then she should go to the shower. If not, then she should let herself out and go home. Now.

Rory swallowed hard. Decisions like this could take her forever under the best of circumstances, and these simply... weren’t. She was running out of time, though. No pro/con list, no calling her mom or Lane, no mulling over it for a really long time. This was it. Also, she was pretty sure it was a one time-offer.

She stood up and, with slightly shaking hands, started taking her clothes off – trying really hard not to think about what she was doing. It worked until she was down to her underwear. What was she **doing**? There was still time to leave... _No. That would be what I’m expected to do, not what I **want**. Because wrong or not, I want Finn. Even if it’s just for tonight._

Panties and bra joined her suit and blouse on a chair. She removed the pins from her hair and combed it through with her fingers, grabbed a towel from the same cabinet that Finn had taken his from, swept it around her body and walked towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was already filled with steam, which meant there was no way Finn would see her standing there. She once more started debating leaving – this really wasn’t her area of expertise. Instead she shook her head, as if trying to shake out the doubts, hung her towel with Finn’s and took a deep breath, gathering her courage around her like mental armor Then she pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the shower.

Finn had his back to her and his face turned up towards the hot water. He looked calm and relaxed, comfortable in his skin – everything Rory was **not** – and it was almost as if he’d missed her entrance. She knew better though and soon got her proof as he turned around, reached for her and pulled her close.

If she focused really hard Rory could almost make herself believe that Finn was just holding her like he’d done before – but only for a second or two. Then the water and the new feeling of Finn’s naked body made her all too aware of the reality again. But, it was a nice reality. Being surrounded by Finn’s warm body and the hot water felt good – even right, somehow. She fit against his body, the difference in height only serving to make her feel sheltered.

 _You want this, remember? You want something that’s just yours, without anyone else planning it for you. You want Finn..._ And she did. God help her, she really did want all of those things.

She felt his hands leave her body, only to return shortly and start moving in circles over her body. The slightly different feel of them and the smell of sandalwood made her realize what was happening: he was washing her body. No one had done this for her since she was a little girl – taking showers together had **not** been on the agenda with Dean or Jess – but having Finn do it... it didn’t make her feel like a child at all. Quite the opposite, in fact; she felt like a desirable woman.

Finn’s hand were magical, she knew it so well, and strong. At the same time they were soft and careful – and apparently knew **exactly** how to touch her in order to turn her into Jello. She relaxed slowly, only for the tension to return as he backed up a little in order to gain access to her front. Rory suddenly wanted to curl up and cover herself. Yes, Finn had seen her breasts before, had touched them too, but that didn’t change the fact that she was embarrassed. She almost backed out then, but the admiring look in his eyes made her stay and actually straighten her back a little. Finn didn’t seem to think she had anything to be ashamed of when it came to her body, and seeing as she’d chosen to do exactly this she didn’t think she should be ashamed of her actions either.

What Finn was doing wasn’t exactly washing her as much as it was caressing her. His hands were learning her body. Yes, she was getting clean, but that seemed like a by-thought and not really that important. Nothing actually seemed important except for the paths Finn’s hands were taking over her body. Her breasts were positively aching with desire, and they were not alone. All her earlier nervousness had been swallowed up by that desire, and the only thing that mattered was that he didn’t stop.

When he did, instead half-kneeling in front of her to work on her legs, Rory heard herself whine a little in protest and saw a pleased smile grace Finn’s lips. She didn’t care – she only wanted his hands back on her breasts.

She changed her mind quickly when his right hand moved from her thigh and in between her legs, playing beneath her curls. Caught up in the feelings he evoked in her, gasping for air, Rory could only whisper his name and enjoy. Then he rose up slowly, fingers still busy, and kissed his way across her skin. Once he reached her breast he stopped, his mouth latching on to her nipple – _that can’t be a comfortable position_ , part of her foggy mind insisted – and soon her whole body felt like it was on fire.

And then, _oh!_ , all rational thought was gone.

Afterwards she came back to herself slowly, leaning against his body, sheltered in his arms, and tried to make her brain work properly again. She was slightly embarrassed, yes, but mostly she was just... _wow_... feeling really, really good. As more and more of her thoughts fell into order she realized it was probably a good idea to try and return the... favor Not that she knew that much about how to proceed, but doing what Finn had done didn’t seem like a bad idea. Stepping back just a little she twisted and reached for the body-wash.

Exploring was fun, a word she wouldn’t have thought she’d use under **those** circumstances, exciting and well, **empowering**. It was obvious, both from his reactions and his words, that Finn enjoyed her attentions and Rory grew bolder. Could she make him feel just as great as she had just minutes ago? Before she got to test that theory Finn stopped her.

“Not yet, kitten, wait just a little.” He turned off the water, pulled the curtain aside and grabbed their towels. Then he wrapped one around his waist, and wrapped Rory with the other before picking her up and carrying her to his bed.

Finn put her down carefully and looked at her with appreciation before laying down with her. His body covered most of hers, and he was warm and heavy and soft and **hard** against her as his hands once more caressed her curves. His kisses were addictive; full of passion and hunger, and Rory felt her earlier desire grow again. It was like a fire in her blood, a sweet heavy throbbing like a second pulse, and she wanted more. 

After forever and a second his mouth left hers to trail kisses all over. Her ears, neck, shoulder, breast, ribcage, belly... Yet, even after everything, when he nudged her legs apart so he could kiss her there as well Rory’s heavy eyes flew wide open. _He’s not going to... Is he? Oh, my, Go..._ Finn’s mouth was performing magic, and soon she was writhing underneath him, moaning his name without thinking, just **feeling**.

She was close, very very close, when Finn started kissing his way back up across her body again. This time he wasn’t covering her like before, instead he was leaning on one arm leaving some space between their bodies. His other hand was doing **something** and when she picked up a quiet, ripping sound she realized what was happening. They’d finally gotten to **that** part.

Rory’s nerves were making themselves known again. Yes, she had chosen this, wanted it, but that didn’t change the fact that she was getting more and more nervous. This was **it** , and things were about to change permanently. Sleeping with Finn would change her, irrevocably – no matter how much of a cliché it might sound like – and she found herself wondering if she’d like who she’d become. She **knew** it was a bit late for second thoughts – she just couldn’t help it. In a desperate attempt to erase the pro/con list that was beginning to pop up – **how** could her mind lead her there, now, didn’t it **get** that she was about to have sex? – she ran with the first option she came up with: a check-list of what to do. They were safe, Finn had seen to that – he was positioning himself between her legs – and since he was using a condom she didn’t have to worry about getting an STD either – he was touching her _oh..._ and preparing to enter – and it was important that she relax – he was rubbing himself against her, slowly – and what was she supposed to do with her hands – he leaned down to kiss her – and she really wasn’t doing that great a job at relaxing, and why the hell wasn’t he **moving**?

When he finally did she regretted thinking just that. She regretted **everything** , every move that had led here, every kiss and every caress, every conversation – she even went as far to regret going to Yale. She’d expected some pain, had braced herself for it, but not this. It felt like she was being split in two, like being on fire – and not in the good way, like only a minute ago – and she found herself trying to crawl out from underneath him and push him away and curl up in a ball, all at the same time. She could taste blood and knew she must have bit her lip, but she didn’t care – all that mattered was getting Finn off of her, **out** of her. It hurt, even though he wasn’t moving, just the slight shift in his body from breathing enough for the pain to flare again.

And then, **finally** , he was moving, her body no longer trapped between his and the bed, his body no longer invading hers. She got up as quickly as she could, ignoring Finn’s shocked expression and worried tone as he called her name – both his pet one and her real – and tried to make her talk to him. Instead she pulled on her blouse and pants, grabbed the rest of her clothes and her purse and walked out. She stopped by the door to pick up her shoes, unintentionally giving him the chance to catch up with her.

“Kitten? Rory, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Kitten, don’t...” And she slammed the door in his face and ran.

~ To Be Continued ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Canon places the party for Seymour Hersh on a Friday. That didn’t work with my vision, and so instead I’m placing it Tuesday in the same week as the vow renewal (five days later than canon if my maths is correct)._  
>  I’d like to remind you all once more that while I mostly follow canon up until the start of this story, some things I’ve decided to let play out a bit differently. This chapter gives you several good examples of this – in fact, gives you the background to pretty much everything in this particular GG-’verse . It’s longer than the other chapters, because of this. It’s a brick, really, in the sense of being anything but light and fluffy and easy. But, it’s also a brick in the sense that it’s a building-block: it provides the setting for a **huge** part of the rest of the series. This said, I hope you won’t be too bored.

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I’ll Remember You**

**Chapter Five – Remember**

The next day Rory refused to leave her dorm. There was nothing she needed that wasn’t there, or couldn’t be ordered – at least nothing worth the risk of going outside and running into Finn. Or anyone else from that crowd either for that matter. She went as far as to not even open the door. Paris was talked into it, albeit grudgingly, after being told that Logan had been an ass the night before (true, but…) and that Rory didn’t want to see him or any of his friends (also true, but…) and would she please, please help out?

Monday morning however forced her to leave her safe haven. Classes were not to be ignored, not for something as petty as boy-trouble. Not even when said boy-trouble was this bad. Still, she stayed away from her usual haunts, took detours and different routes, and successfully managed to not meet anyone from the LDB-crowd.

Thursday saw the end of her luck. She’d made the necessary, but perhaps not so intelligent, decision to stop at her favorite coffee cart on her way back from a late and tough lecture. No sooner had she gotten her coffee and started towards her dorm again before someone blocked her way. Finn.

“Hello, kitten.”

 

Her eyes narrowed, her head started pounding and she could practically feel the flashes inside. Him. She didn’t say anything, just shook her head slightly, and tried going around him. Naturally he didn’t take the hint. “Kitten?”

No reaction.

“Kitten, is something wrong?” **That** got her attention all right. Something wrong? **Something**?

“Something wrong? You conceited bastard! Something wrong? I’ll say. Where do you want me to start?”

“Did I... Kitten, are you okay? You're not looking so good...”

“Oh, really? I wonder why. Must have something to do with the fact that not only am I still in pain, **because of you** , I’ve been bleeding for close to 48 hours, **because of you, and** I get the added joy of knowing that not only was loosing my virginity a big mistake, it’s also going to be an LDB-tale! So, yeah, you’ll have to forgive me for not looking my best. And once you’ve done that you can go straight to Hell!”

In the back of her mind Rory noted that while she was making quite an impression with her words and her tone (not to mention the slight hiss in her voice) she was still speaking quietly. The people around them had no way of realizing how angry Rory was based on her voice, nor would they be hearing why. Emily Gilmore would be so proud.

“Kitten, I...”

“Don’t **call** me that!” Rory was loosing it completely now, and noticed she was getting looks from the people around her. She was louder now, she supposed, but after everything that had happened “kitten” was the last thing she wanted to be called. She **really** didn’t feel like purring. She turned to leave, and again Finn was in her way.

“Rory, please... I... Can we talk about this, somewhere not so public perhaps? Please? I’ll behave, I promise, just **talk** to me.”

Rory wanted to say “no”, just because, but she knew Finn was making sense. They needed to talk, if for no other reason then just so she could try and make sure he kept quiet about this whole mess. Plus, the fact that he was actually talking to her in public, without giving thought to possible witnesses, made her think that Finn actually cared.

“Fine.”

And without saying another word she started walking, leaving it up to Finn to follow her or not.

~ * ~ * ~

Locking herself into her room with Finn felt... slightly claustrophobic. It wasn’t that she believed he’d try to harm her, or any such thing – he’d proved that he accepted her “no” – but she felt uncomfortable anyway. After all, the last time she’d spent time with Finn they’d ended up in his bed.

Speaking of which, apart from the chair by her desk the only other place to sit was on her bed. Rory swallowed nervously. She was **not** ready to put her, Finn and a bed together again.

“You sit there.” It wasn’t a suggestion or anything, it was more or less an order. Finn could sit in her chair, at a safe distance, or he could stand. It was up to him. Rory herself curled up on her bed; back against the wall, knees against her chest and her hands on her thighs.

Finn sat down as requested and looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt. There was next to no room in Rory for mercy right then though, so she made an impatient gesture with her hand, wordlessly telling him to get on with the talking he’d insisted on.

And he got straight to the point.

“I don’t know how to say this diplomatically, so I’m not even going to try. I **never** would have guessed you were a virgin. If I had, I wouldn’t have...  
And it’s not because I think of you as the kind of girl to sleep around or anything, but it seemed logical to assume you’d had sex before. After all, you and Dean were together, what? At least three years, seeing as you told me you started dating when you were sixteen. And frankly? Unless religion’s involved, normally couples end up having sex when they’re in relationships that long.”

He was right. And if Dean and her had actually **been** together those three years, then her virginity wouldn’t have been an issue now. But...

“You’re not wrong, Finn, except for the fact that you are. See, that wasn’t the first time Dean and I broke up. It **will** be the last, but it sure wasn’t the first. The first time we dated I was sixteen. He was not only my first boyfriend, he was also the first boy I kissed and the first boy to show an interest in me. I was too innocent to even **think** about sex, and we were only together for three months.  
The second time around lasted longer, almost a year and a half, and well, we might have slept together if things had been good the whole time.”

“They weren’t?” Finn sounded a bit surprised. He was allowed, she guessed, because it sounded crazy to keep getting back together if it wasn’t good.

“No. I didn’t admit it then, not even to myself, but honestly? The fact that Dean had already broken up with me once stayed in the back of my head. A part of me always insisted that our relationship wasn’t as secure as I wanted to think. And then I met someone else... I didn’t cheat, it wasn’t like that, but I made a new friend that made me see that there were a lot of things missing in my relationship with Dean.  
For instance, he didn’t know any of the books and music I love – not unless I made him listen, made him read. The movies were easier, but the rest... We were very different, and that wasn’t always good. I thought it would be okay, but then I met Jess. He’s Luke’s nephew, and came to stay with him because of problems with his mom. Didn’t fit in at all, but he and I... we hit it off at once. He was more like me that Dean could ever be, he knew about books and music, challenged me and could keep up with me. Jess showed me what Dean wasn’t, you know, and that’s a huge part of why my feelings changed. Yes, I fell in love with Jess later, but I couldn’t have if Dean had still held my heart. And while I might not have admitted it, it was still there, and played a part in why sex never became an issue.  
And then there was the last time. Sex **really** was an issue that time. At first we were caught up in declarations of love, and hormones, and almost ended up in bed before we were even a real couple. But...” She didn’t want to finish that sentence. Really, really didn’t.  
“...we didn’t, and when I’d had some time to clear my head I realized I wanted to wait a little. We never got there though, since Dean decided to break up with me. Again. I think he got tired of waiting, even though he **said** he understood.”  
Finn looked completely unbelieving.

“Are you saying he broke up with you because you hadn’t slept with him yet?”

“I don’t know. How could I know? But when I look at all the facts... well, it certainly **seems** that way. Which is kind of ironic, you know, because the day before he broke it off I’d made reservations at a nice hotel for the two of us. For my birthday, actually. Amusing, isn’t it? I keep telling myself it’s for the best; if he could break up with me like that he probably would have sooner or later no matter what I’d done. Now at least I have one less thing to regret when it comes to Dean.” _Which is good, because I have enough anyway..._

“And about me not having had sex,” she blushed, “how could you have known? I don’t have a scarlet ‘V’ somewhere, do I? I didn’t really expect you to figure it out.” Then again...  
“But, I’m going to be honest and admit that at times I was sure you had – I mean, I was acting like such a idiot, and it’s not like my lack of experience wasn’t pretty obvious. Still, it is what it is, Finn.”

“I wish I’d known, I would have...”

She interrupted him, trying not to sound bitter but not having much success.

“You mean you **wouldn’t** have. Right?”

“No. Well, okay, maybe. I don’t know, honestly, and it’s not like I can find out now, can I? Still, let’s say I’d known. There was no need for you to be in pain, kitten. I know that’s the story; you loose your virginity and it’s going to hurt and bleed. In reality it doesn’t have to be. Had I realized, well, I could have done things differently. Prepared you better, been more careful.”

Rory felt like her face was on fire, and hung her head low. She had counted on this talk to be difficult and embarrassing, but not **this** bad. Still, even though she wasn’t looking at Finn she could tell he wasn’t that comfortable with the topic either. He probably had tons of practical experience, but she was guessing he wasn’t big with the oral. And **that** slip of the (mental) tongue made her blush even hotter. Because honestly? Finn had certainly proved oral wasn’t a problem – at least not **one** kind of oral.

He was obviously picking up on her desire to change the topic, though, because his next words had nothing to do with sex. Too bad it wasn’t that much of an improvement.

“So, who did you go to Paris with? An older sister by the looks – I didn’t know you had one.”  
Rory’s head shot up. He was standing with his back to her, looking at a picture on her desk – her and her mom during their European adventure. Time to avoid the next painful subject.

“I don’t. Oh, no, wait. I mean, I **do** have a sister, only she’s two, and that’s obviously not her, because hello, toddler. No, **that** happens to be my mother, the magnificent Lorelai Gilmore,” she said, once more sounding more than a little bitter and resentful.

Finn gave her one of those unreadable looks and then seemed to brace himself slightly. She wondered what he wanted to say – but just knew she wouldn’t like it.

“Look, kitten, it’s not that I’m trying to snoop or anything, but I’m starting to feel like I’m walking a minefield here. It’s something every time we talk. Your grandparents to a certain degree, your roommate at times. Logan pretty much always. There’s your ex boyfriend, and the fact that I’m pretty sure you’re keeping quiet about something concerning the two of you – something important too, I’d guess. It’s obvious you have issues with your dad, and now your mom too. It’s actually getting exhausting to stay away from those topics – and if it’s that way for **me** , then I can hardly begin to understand what it’s like for you.  
Now, I realize that it’s none of my business, and I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I really think you should. All that tension you’re walking around with? No way is Yale completely responsible for that, not even factoring in the work you do at the paper and Logan. Some of it just might go away if you talk about what’s bothering you instead of keeping it all inside. And if you want to talk? I’ll listen.”

She didn’t talk about her parents these days. Not about her dysfunctional relationship with her dad. Not about her ruined one with her mom. And she really didn’t talk about the failure that was her relationship(s) with Dean. Doing so? Just the thought scared her. Talking to Finn? That thought didn’t just scare her, it terrified her. But, at the same time it also felt very tempting because he was most likely right. Last year had been much worse, academically and socially speaking. Yet she hadn’t even been close to this run down then. The difference was found in all those things she didn’t talk about.

Sure, telling Finn might prove to be a Very Bad Idea. It would give him a ton of blackmail material. Then again – he already had enough on her to ruin her reputation at Yale. Still, Finn had proved time and again that he was a lot smarter and saw more than she’d have thought at first. Telling him everything would provide him with an insight into the life and soul of Rory Gilmore that was beyond scary.

 _You’re willing to let him into your body, but not into your mind? Seriously!_ A mental voice sounding disturbingly like Paris scoffed. She chewed thoughtfully on her lip. There was a real risk of Finn walking out if he found out her background and her secrets. At the same time, there was nothing in her life that a determined person couldn’t find out on their own – should they really want to. Five minutes in Stars Hollow would do the trick. And honestly? If the truth about her would make Finn permanently pretend he didn’t know her? It would be better to find out now. All the evasions, the half-truths, the almost-lies... they were tiring. It wasn’t her, wasn’t who she wanted to be, and by now Rory knew that she didn’t want anyone in her life she couldn’t be herself with.

She decided to risk it.

“Did anyone fill you in on the Gilmore scandal?”

“A scandal? No. Didn’t think your grandparents had it in them. What did they do, pick the wrong caterer or country club?”

“ **They** didn’t do anything. It was me and mom, actually.”

“But why? Wait. You told me your mom walked out of your grandparents’ house when you were a baby. Is that why?”

“Yes, and no. There’s more to it – it started long before that.”

She could see the wheels in Finn’s head turning, quicker and quicker.  
“Long before you were a baby, yet you were part of it? How...? Oh.” Realization flooded his eyes. _“Oh” indeed._

“Yeah. I was born. Mom got pregnant. You see, mom doesn’t just **look** young, she **is** young. That picture?” she nodded over at her desk. “It was taken just a couple of months after her 35th birthday. Yes, that’s right. Mom got pregnant at fifteen, was sixteen when I was born, and seventeen when she walked out. The scandal only got worse due to the fact that she completely refused to ‘do the right thing’ and marry my dad. He would have done it, in a heartbeat, but mom dug her heels in and just said ‘no’. Which, of course, everyone thought she should have done a little earlier. Then she made things even worse by running away when I was about a year old. Instead of living with her parents and going back to finish high school she ended up in Stars Hollow, working as a maid, and lived with me in the Inn’s old pottery shed.”

Finn looked stunned. She just waited.

“Are you serious? You are, aren’t you? Oh my. Yes, I can see why that created a scandal.”

“Mmm. A society girl getting pregnant in high school wasn’t that unusual, not even back then, not from what I’ve heard. Usually, though, they’d have an abortion or get married quickly. Sure, everyone would know why the marriage was so sudden, but at least the child wasn’t born ‘out of wedlock’. Plus, there was the possibility of **pretending** like it was planned. So, when mom dug in her heels and refused to go through with the plan their parents came up with? It was a bigger scandal than her getting pregnant in the first place. And when she left? Oh, I’m very, **very** happy that I was too little to understand anything about this when it happened.  
The thing is, I can sort of see why she left. Mom didn’t like being raised in society – she blamed that for everything that was wrong, or that she felt was wrong with her life – and wanted to make sure I didn’t ‘suffer’ like she did. She just never took the time to consider that it could be something else. Maybe it wasn’t society, maybe it was that she and her parents were too different. Maybe it was that she tends to rebel against pretty much everything she didn’t come up with on her own. But, be as it may, she ran away.  
And no matter how much I try and understand her actions, sometimes the only thing I can see is that her running away might just be why my dad has never been a real part of my life. He was before, but...”

“Why? It’s not that far from Hartford to Stars Hollow; he could easily have visited.” Finn didn’t understand, but that was okay – because honestly? Most of the time, neither did she.

“Yeah, he could have. That is, if he’d know we were there. See, mom was a minor, on the run with a baby and hardly any money. Of course my grandparents had the police looking for us. So, mom kept a low profile until she turned eighteen, didn’t tell anyone anything. The way mom tells it dad couldn’t be trusted with the knowledge; he was too weak and would have caved the instant someone asked him if he knew where we was. I don’t know if she’s right, but I wish she would have trusted him. For **my** sake.  
The result was that when he finally came to visit it had been nearly eight months. He barely recognized me, and I had no idea who he was. It took a couple of months before I relaxed around him. He’d come visit once or twice during the week and then every Sunday. But, after a year he graduated and went away to college, which meant he was only home for Christmas and summer break, and if I was lucky once in the fall and once in the spring.”

“But you manage to go home every week. Why didn’t he do the same?”

“Because he didn’t choose the closest college. When it came to that he did cave, and went to Princeton like his father ordered. Maybe things would have been different if dad had defied him and gone to Yale instead, but I’ll never know.” She shook her head, feeling blue.

“You know, the first time my dad was actually present for my birthday I was turning ten. He’s been there for two more, and well, most years he manages to call on the right day. This year... he didn’t.”

“The flowers.” It wasn’t a question, but she still answered it.

“Yeah. They were his way of celebrating me – he didn’t have the time for anything else. I understand why, at least partly, because his father was dying, but... I would have preferred a call, no matter how short. Even a ‘happy birthday’ on my voice mail would have been more appreciated.”

Rory shook her head. She’d promised herself not to dwell on that – there was enough to be hurt by as it was.

“Sometimes dad’s visit would be more frequent, for a short time, and then things would go back to normal. I was thirteen when I figured out the pattern: he’d decide he wanted to get back together with mom, and visiting was a part of his way to achieve that. It never worked though, not really. Sure, there were times when mom would consider it, but never for more than a few days. Then she’d be back to ‘Chris, it’s not going to work’ and ‘Chris, you’re too irresponsible’ and so on. With one exception, I might add. Two and a half years ago dad showed up for an unannounced visit. His girlfriend had left him, and he was actually happy about it – because he wanted mom back. And for the first time ever mom was on the same page **and** dad was doing fine with work and everything. So they were on cloud nine for a couple of hours, making plans for the future and just so happy.  
It all came crashing down when dad got a call from Sherry, who turned out to be pregnant. And that was it. Dad felt he couldn’t **not** be there for Sherry and the baby – he missed it all with me, and didn’t want to again.  
Part of me understands. Dad had finally gotten some much needed growing up done, and took responsibility. That’s great. But I was finally getting my family together for real, and part of me is selfish enough to be angry about that not happening. Also, there’s this ugly suspicion that dad took the easy way out. He could have stayed with mom and still been there for Sherry and Gigi. Yes, it would have taken more work, but it would have been possible. Instead of him coming to see us in Stars Hollow we could have gone to him in Boston, and so on. But with me and mom there would always be history, the fact that he hadn’t been there for us before, that it took dad over fifteen years to get his act in order. Staying with Sherry made dad look responsible.  
So things stayed the same; phone calls from dad every week, visits now and again, and the rest of the time it was just me and mom like always.”

“And things with her aren’t that great?” Finn looked at her with compassion. “Sometimes when you talk about your mom it sounds like the two of you are so close, but then you’ll sound angry. It’s as if you’re talking about two different people.”

“In a way, I am. There’s mom the way I grew up seeing her, and then there’s mom as I see her now.  
Mom used to be my best friend. It would always amaze people how close we were, but in reality it wasn’t that strange or amazing. It was, after all, simply how she’d raised me. Mom never really got along with grandma, and so when I was born mom decided she and I would have a completely different relationship. **We** would be able to talk about everything. **We** would have fun together, and do stuff, and borrow each other’s clothes. And most of all we’d trust each other.  
She raised me to be her best friend first and her daughter second. She used to call me ‘mini-me’, and that’s what I was, in a way. I was raised to think like her, dress like her, act like her – to a certain degree. I was supposed to like the things she liked, hate the things she did – to do what she felt was right, to be who she wanted me to be.  
I’ve always known how I’m supposed to be, **who** I’m supposed to be, what to become and so on. I’m supposed to do all the things she never did – like graduating from high school and then an Ivy league college. The problem is that her plan also included what I was supposed to **not** do. Not just bad things like getting pregnant and dropping out, but pretty much everything she connected to her old world. To society.  
Take dance for instance. Mom’s taken a ton of dance classes, and loves ballroom dancing. I’ve seen how she just lits up on a dance floor. Me? I got six months of Miss Patty. Ballet,” she added, seeing Finn’s confusion.

“Anything beyond slow dancing makes me nauseous, and when I tried learning how to waltz? Let’s just leave it at ‘bad’, shall we? And that list goes on and on.  
But I could live with all of that, really, I could. Sure, it would have been nice to have experienced some of the things mom got, but they’re not necessary. What **is** necessary, how ever, is independence, and I don’t think mom ever meant for me to have it.”

“Surely you’re exaggerating, kitten? Every parent wants that for their child, in some way at least. Even the worst society parents.”

“I wish I was, Finn. I really wish I was. But making up my own mind about things was one of those things I wasn’t supposed to do. I was just supposed to follow the plan. Part of the plan was for me to stay away from my grandparents world – I wasn’t to even try anything about it. Mom’s lived in it and hated it, so I should just take her word for it and hate it too. Hate **them** too, more or less. That I let grandpa take me to his country club and ended up enjoying myself? She hated that. And that I get along with my grandparents? Oh, that **really** rubs her the wrong way. Sometimes it’s as if she needs her relationship with them to get worse and worse simply because mine improves. And honestly? If she’d known that Chilton would lead to me having a good relationship with them and not automatically hating everything about society? I don’t think she would have even mentioned the place to me.”

“But why?”

“Because to her, or at least a part of her, me not feeling like she does is a betrayal. Chilton and my grandparents were just the first of many in her eyes.”

“Betrayal, kitten? You can’t be serious.” It was obvious that all of this sounded ridiculous to Finn, and it did to her as well, but it was also true.

“Oh yes. It’s about me deviating from the plan, Finn. I’m not doing the things I’m supposed to, the things we agreed on. The fact that I’m doing what I want doesn’t count.  
Take Yale. Me going here is a prime example. The plan didn’t include me going to Yale, or even applying here. No, it was supposed to be Harvard. I’ve been Harvard-bound since kindergarten. All the other kids would tell you they wanted to be ballerinas, and fire-fighters, and rock stars when they grew up. But Rory Gilmore? She wanted to go to Harvard. And seriously? What five-year old has made up her mind about college? Not even Paris had decided that early! I don’t even remember talking about possibilities, all I remember is knowing I was going to go to Harvard.”

“So what changed?”

“Nothing. Everything. My dad’s girlfriend started talking about how nice it would be to have me close to them – my dad lives in Boston – which made my grandparents, and mom, go all territorial. So, then grandma started ‘mentioning’ that not only was I legacy at Yale, but it was close enough for me to visit a lot more often. I made a pro/con list and applied here as well. I didn’t tell anyone though, because I knew how mom would react. And I was right. When mom found out... ‘I didn’t know we applied anywhere else’ she said, and that was the problem. ‘We’ applied to Harvard. ‘We’ didn’t apply to Yale and a few more schools – but **I** did.”

“No one applies to only one school, kitten. No one. That would be stupid. In fact, even Logan applied to Stanford and Princeton as well – and **he** had been told that if he didn’t go to Yale he’d have to pay for college himself.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to though. It was Harvard or nothing. Mom was furious. She blamed my grandparents, and later my boyfriend. She wasn’t happy with me at all, and even after she told me she was okay with me making the decision I did things were really strained. To her, me choosing Yale meant I was choosing my grandparents over her.”

“But why? Yale’s an Ivy league college, a damned good school, and close to home. Plus, didn’t your grandfather go here?”

“Exactly. Grandpa went here – therefor I shouldn’t. There’s not a single reason why Harvard would be better for me than Yale – except for the fact that I’m legacy here, and me going to Yale made grandpa very happy. Mom... I’m not saying she hates her parents or anything, but she doesn’t like to please them. If they’re happy for her – and it’s something **she** chose – then it’s great, but the thought of doing something that will make them happy? No. So, as I said, me making a decision that made them happy – no matter that I did it for me, not them – was a betrayal. She’s kept up an okay facade, but we haven’t been good since.  
She hasn’t really forgiven me for going here, not even after all this time. It’s just gotten worse, actually. Things were tolerable when she thought she could blame it all on grandma and grandpa, or even my boyfriend, but when she realized it was all me? That’s when it hit her: I was growing up and the grown-up Rory wasn’t a ‘mini-me’ anymore. I was deciding things for myself and making up my own mind, instead of asking her what to do and following the plan. That’s when our relationship really started to break down. We faked it that summer, traveling, but that was all it was; faking. I think we would have repaired it, sooner or later, but...”

And this was the part Rory really didn’t want to talk about. Needed to, yes, but wanted to? Not in a million years.

“Something happened, didn’t it? Something big. You can tell me kitten, I promise. You can trust me.”

And yes, she was beginning to think that she could.

“Dean happened.” Finally saying it out loud made her feel lighter, as if a heavy load had been lifted from her shoulders.

Something made her think that Finn wouldn’t push, not when it came to this, that he’d let her tell the story or not as she wished. But it was time to tell. Secrets had a way of coming out, she **knew** this, and she didn’t want it hanging over her head any longer.

“Dean’s always caused problems with mom. From day one, before we were even close to dating. First it was because he was the first boy I’d met that was interesting in that way, and who seemed to feel the same way about me. Meeting him made me rethink transferring – really stupid, I know, and I got over it. Mom, however, freaked. I was thinking about giving up the better school that was my ticket to Harvard for a boy? If I’d said something the day before she might have listened, but by then she’d already swallowed her pride and asked my grandparents for the money.  
That I didn’t tell her it was because of a boy only made it worse when she figured out, and me not telling... It was a big no-no in our relationship. I should have told her I liked him, that he liked me, that we kissed, and I should have done so at once. Preferably before any of it really happened. She got over it, mostly though, and called Dean ‘the perfect first boyfriend’ - still did after he broke up with me.  
Next she got upset because I got back together with Dean. Apparently that wasn’t okay, even though I wanted it, because of how he’d broken up with me.”

“Meaning?” There was something about Finn right then that gave her pause. She didn’t know why, and so she still answered the question.

“For our three month anniversary Dean took me out. The date – and us – ended when he told me he loved me and I didn’t say it back. Mind you, that didn’t stop him from being that perfect first boyfriend in mom’s eyes, it just meant we should stay apart.  
In a way mom was right. I shouldn’t have taken him back. But I missed him – even though I might have missed being in a relationship more. If I’d met someone then, like say Jess – the boy Dean and I broke up because of – or well, any interesting and **interested** guy... No one showed up though, except for...”

“Except for ‘T’, right?” Finn filled in.

“Yep. I didn’t take him seriously though, not even when he started trying for real, because I was so sure it was all about getting me into bed. I didn’t want to be a notch on his bedpost, so I didn’t give him a chance. I know now that he really did like me, at least after a while, but back then I had no reason to think so.” She hesitated slightly, knowing that the next part could make Finn go off again, considering his Logan-fixation when she was concerned, but she felt he needed the explanation. And since she **was** sharing...

“I made him think I hated him and pushed him away. Anything to get Dean back. I really hurt his feelings, and when I found out the truth – Paris got a little chatty one night – I felt so guilty. I was so ashamed of myself, because I should have given him that chance, and so I made a promise. If he ever walked into my life again I’d give him a second chance – at dating if that’s what he wanted, but otherwise just as a human being.  
Part of me thinks that’s why I was about to give Logan a chance.”

“What? A date by proxy?” Finn sounded like he didn’t believe what he was hearing. Understandable, but not too productive.

“Yeah. Stupid, I know, and I’m really glad nothing came of it. Going out with someone because of who they remind you of? Because you feel you owe someone they look like? That **has** to be a foolproof way to ruin a relationship before it’s even started.”

And the fact that Finn reminded her of Jess wasn’t the same. Not at all.

“But we weren’t talking about blonds, we were talking about Dean. Look... Finn, you’re going to hear a few things I’m not exactly proud of. It’s not how I usually behave, and I’m counting on having this on my conscience for the rest of my life. Judging from how I feel I’ll probably never quit feeling ashamed.  
After the second time Dean and I broke up we both moved on. I started dating Jess at once, because he’d already replaced Dean in my heart, and a few months later I found out Dean was seeing a girl called Lindsay. I was happy for him, and relieved; maybe then Jess would stop thinking Dean was trying to get me back.  
Then a couple of weeks before graduation I ran into Dean, who had news. Big news. He and Lindsay were getting married. Eighteen years old, not even out of high school and they were getting married? After dating for six months, no less. They should have been thinking about college courses, not wedding guests. It was impossible for me to be happy for him.”

“But surely their parents were pushing for a long engagement? Or was she...”

“No, she wasn’t pregnant, at least not as far as I know. And that’s no on the long engagement as well. They set the date for August, just three months later, and Lindsay and Mrs Lister started planning at once. It was a disaster in the making. Especially since it turned out Dean hadn’t moved on as much as he should have. Right before Dean passed out after his bachelor party he told Luke he still loved me.  
I **know** Luke, and interfering isn’t his thing, but I wish he’d talked to Dean about it afterwards. It could have saved a lot of heartache.” _Would have helped me at least..._

“So I’m guessing they got divorced? That isn’t too uncommon for teenage marriages you know.” Finn still hadn’t gotten where she was going with all of this.

“I know it’s not, and I really think they’re better apart. They should have split up a lot earlier though, and they **really** shouldn’t have gotten married. Sure, they were happy at first, but that was before reality set in. Bills, working instead of going to college, having to manage a household... They argued more and more, and apparently Dean’s solution was to fixate on me and our happy times.  
As for me, I wasn’t doing much better. The coursework was harder than I’d thought, and I was so lonely since Paris was occupied with her ‘boyfriend’ and I’d only managed to make one new friend here. Boys wasn’t even in the picture. When Dean and I started talking again in the spring – by accident, really – it was so easy, and I was reminded of those happy times as well. And coming home for the summer, well, all I saw was Dean and Lindsay fighting about one thing after another.  
I felt sorry for him, and decided it was Lindsay’s fault. She was keeping him back, she was stopping him from college and life. I forgot that Dean had **chosen** to marry her, and that college wasn’t too high on his list of priorities when we first met.”

She fell silent and looked Finn straight in the eye to convey her honesty.

“Up to that point I was being stupid, but I didn’t do anything wrong. That summer though... As I said, I’m really ashamed of this.  
One evening Dean showed up, when he knew I was home alone, and told me his marriage wasn’t working. He couldn’t make it work, couldn’t make her happy. And I just nodded along, like some silly goose. I was stupid enough to think that him taking of his ring before trying to have sex with me meant that the divorce papers were signed, more or less. It was all ‘I love you, Rory’ and ‘I love you too, Dean’. Everything else? We just ignored it.  
Then mom walked in on us, interrupted us. Which, by the way, she doesn’t believe. Tousled hair, clothes askew and both of us acting very guilty – sure, I can understand why her first thought was ‘sex’. But she should have believed me when I said that nothing like that had happened, because I’ve never lied to her before. Kept quiet, yes, and not told her everything. But flat out lied? And about something like that? Mom had **no** reason to think that. She should have trusted me – it was how we were supposed to be. But she didn’t. She’s convinced that Dean and I had sex that night, and pretty much every time we saw each other after that.  
And the funny thing, like funny-stupid, not funny-ha ha? Earlier that day I told my friend Lane how I might have blown it, giving up Dean for Jess, but I didn’t tell her how much I’d loved Dean, or how he loved me. No, what I focused on was that he was always there for me – even though it would sometimes drive me crazy how he’d be standing by the bus stop when I came back from school – and that he made me feel safe. I let myself get drawn into that madness because of feeling safe? God, I was such an idiot.  
Because of course Lindsay had no idea Dean felt the way he did. I overheard her, and she was so focused on making it work, and I was overwhelmed with guilt. What had I done? I was hurting so much after that, because of Lindsay, because of mom and because I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Dean on how he was going to handle things.  
So, the next day grandma told me she was leaving for Europe and I was more than welcome to go with her, and well, I did. I needed to get away from everything, and most of all I needed to get away from mom. Traveling seemed perfect, and it was, until – in perfect accordance with my luck – I got back to Stars Hollow just in time to see Lindsay kick Dean out. She’d found out about me and him, and naturally she was furious.  
Today I can’t see why I started dating Dean again after all of that. I guess I felt I should – we’d destroyed so much to be together, it was as if we didn’t have the right no to try. I know we should have waited for the divorce to be finalized, I knew it then too, but we didn’t. There was this ‘now or never’ feeling, and I just let myself drift along. The one thing I did insist on was for us to wait with sex until Dean was legally single. Kind of ironic, isn’t it, that he dumped me four days later?”

Finn’s eyebrows shot up to join his hairline.

“So. He lost his wife – permanently – and you in less than a week? What’s his problem? And how could he **not** understand that you wanted to wait?”

“I think that he was simply **used** to sex on a regular basis. From what I’ve heard that was the one part of their marriage where they never had any problems. But truthfully, I’m just guessing. I don’t really understand a lot about any of it.  
What I do know is that somehow practically everyone in Stars Hollow thinks Dean and I have been sleeping together. Lindsay, and her mom, didn’t exactly keep quiet about the reason for the divorce, and mom hasn’t been pulling any punches either.  
I can live with it, even if it’s hurtful and anything but fun, because some people do believe me. Luke does, even if he keeps a low profile, and my best friend Lane. I have Paris here at Yale, and now you know the truth as well. It’s not much, but you take what you can get.”

It sounded so pitiful, Rory thought. She’d been Stars Hollow’s unofficial princess for most of her life, and now she was down to four people who trusted her version of things while the rest thought of her as a home wrecker and a tramp.

“Your mom, don’t you think she’ll come around?” Finn meant well, but he just didn’t know Lorelai Victoria Gilmore.

“No,” Rory shook her head, both backing up her statement and trying to stop the tears, “she won’t. She’s made up her mind, and she’s more likely to marry into society than admit she might be wrong. Me lying and sleeping with my ex sounds better to her, in some twisted way, than me **almost** sleeping with my ex and being honest. I’m not denying it could have happened, because had she showed up ten minutes later, or say half an hour? Oh, it would have happened. But it didn’t.  
I’ve told her what feels like a million times, I’ve asked – no, **begged** , her to trust me. And do you know what her answer was? That I hadn’t exactly done anything to earn her trust lately. Which is... Gah, I don’t even want to go there.  
She should trust me because she knowns me, and because she loves me – at least I thought she did – and because I’ve never given her reason to think I’d lie like that.”

She tried to laugh, because really, it was so ironic, but what came out sounded uncomfortably like a sob.

“Ever since she’s been going on and on about how wrong I acted, what a horrible thing I did, how stupid I was and how she didn’t raise me like this. The fact that well, she kind of showed me it wasn’t **too** wrong by sleeping with dad five seconds after Sherry had left... It’s been all ‘Rory’s a bad girl’ over and over and **over** again. Thank you, mom, I got the message. I **really** got the message, and I think most of Connecticut did too.  
But, do you know what’s **really** ironic and twisted about this? With the way mom’s been going on you’d think she’d act the way she tells me to, right? But no. My mother, ‘little miss morality’, want to guess where she is right now? No? She’s in Boston, most likely screwing my dad.”

The expression on Finn’s face would have been funny, in any other circumstance, really, because it was worth paying for. But there was nothing funny about that particular story.

“She’s **what**?” Finn practically squeaked.

“With my dad. That little stunt dad pulled Saturday resulted in mom and Luke breaking up. Luke was hurt by the fact that grandma wanted to break them up, by dad telling him he didn’t have a right to get upset about anything concerning me, by finding out mom lied to him about spending time with dad.... He needed time, and instead of backing off for even a day mom pushed. So, he broke things off.  
Now, seeing as mom’s been all ‘Luke’s the one for me’ for months I would have expected her to wallow. Curl up in the couch with ice cream and chocolate, watching sob stories. Get staggering drunk and pick a fight with grandma’s on the list too, just as telling dad to go to hell. I can even see her get into bed and cry for a day or two, totally shutting the world out. The one thing I couldn’t see her do was go to dad.

“And you’re sure she did?” The surprise was understandable – **she** barely believed it, and she knew without a doubt it was true.

“Unfortunately, yes. See, Sookie called me Tuesday night. Mom had left a message on the Inn’s machine Sunday that she was taking a little time off. Then when Sookie found out about the breakup she went to check up on mom, only she wasn’t home. Babette – our next door neighbor – told her mom came home Saturday and parked the jeep. She left at once, on foot, only to come back later. Fifteen minutes later Babette heard a car, and when she looked the jeep was gone again.  
Sookie got really worried and checked everywhere. Called me, my grandparents’ house, even Luke... hospitals, police. Nothing. When she told me I got this bad feeling, so after class yesterday I drove over to dad’s place – praying all the way that I was wrong. But sure enough, mom’s jeep was parked there. And since I **know** dad doesn’t have a guest bedroom, or even a guest bed... Mom’s not likely to have spent four nights in Gigi’s crib, or on the couch that’s too short for **me** , or on the floor. Which leaves dad’s bed.  
I just don’t understand. She said she loved Luke, but she lied to him to go see dad. Still, she spent her Saturday – before the fight and the breakup, that is – trying to convince Luke that dad was history and that Luke was it for her. Then when dad causes their breakup, she goes to him instead of dealing with it on her own.  
I used to dream about mom and dad getting back together, you know, like most kids with separated parents. But after Sherry got pregnant... I gave up. Dad had made his choice, and I was beginning to see that mom and dad weren’t that good for each other. So this? This is a nightmare. I love my dad, I do. But I love Luke too... He’s been my dad in ways dad never managed for years now and I really wish he could have been my dad ‘for real’, you know.”

It wasn’t until Finn’s thumb swept across her cheek that Rory realized the tears she’d fought to hold back were streaming down her face freely.

“The sad thing? A part of me is sort of happy that mom didn’t manage to make Luke take her back. Yes, he overreacted, but he asked for time and she decided not to respect that. She probably thought she’d be able to manipulate him into doing as she wanted – she’s always managed before.  
Before the fight Saturday became about mom and dad, when it was about finding Logan and me in the coat room... Luke was the only one willing to listen to me. Dad just exploded, and mom had already made up her mind. Like with Dean what she saw had to be me acting like a tramp. She refused to hear what I had to say, and actually looked down her nose at me. Like she was so much better than me. She isn’t, I think she’s proved that.  
But Luke... The next time I see him, if I want to explain he’ll listen. He did when it came to Dean, after all. He’ll listen because he loves me – because to him I’m almost a daughter. Two parents and one stepparent, and which one’s treating me like a parent should treat their child?  
I know Luke’s loved mom for a long time, but the way she’s acting? Maybe it’s for the best that they broke up. He’s beginning to look too good for her – if she can just up and run to dad, then she doesn’t deserve someone like Luke.”

The floodgates had opened now, and Rory stopped talking. There wasn’t much left to say anyway, and nothing that important, which was lucky since the sobs were too violent for any words to escape understandable. And through the emotional storm that followed Finn simply held her.

She cried for not having a functional family, and for Luke not becoming part of it. She cried for her and Dean, for Lindsay and Dean; for loosing so much of her trust in the world and for loosing her relationship with her mom. And she cried for the way she’d lost her virginity. Afterwards Rory was exhausted. Getting up to brush her teeth and change into her pajamas was out of the question, instead she just wriggled out of her jeans and crawled under the covers. Finn stayed with her, by unspoken agreement – she was happy that he wanted to, she was simply too fragile right then to be alone. Even if it was just to sleep. He stayed the night, on top of the covers with a blanket for warmth, holding her gently but still not restricting her movements. They stayed like that through the night.

~ * ~ * ~

The next morning Rory woke up confused, not knowing why she’d woken up. It was too dark and quiet for it to be her alarm – she didn’t have a morning class that day – and with the “quiet” part it couldn’t have been Paris. Then she discovered Finn, and went from confused to mortified in approximately one point four seconds. Her leg was resting in between Finn’s, one of which was hooked over hers. Her face had been almost buried in his chest, and she was practically on top of him. And as if that hadn’t been enough to make her blush it was also **very** obvious that he liked having her there.

Still, he didn’t protest when she untangled herself and pulled away, except for a quiet sigh she well could have imagined. Instead he flashed her a sleepy smile.

“Any chance of sneaking past your roommate?”

A quick look at the time gave Rory the answer.

“Since she’s not here I’d say your chances are about fifty – fifty. This **is** Paris we’re talking about. Me, I’m going to make good use of the fact that I have two more hours until I have to get up.” Dragging up all that emotional baggage the night before, and the resulting breakdown, had left her feeling drained. She needed to recharge her batteries, so to speak, and sleep was usually a good way.

“Sounds smart. I’ll just slip out then.”

Until then Rory had never appreciated the fact that her bedroom window only faced the back of another building, but watching Finn climb out undetected made her see the appeal. Gossip wasn’t exactly something she enjoyed, and she **knew** there would be tons of it if Finn was to be observed leaving her dorm at half past seven in the morning.

Once he was safely on the ground she closed the window, crawled back into bed and was out like a light.

~ To Be Continued ~


	6. Chapter 6

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I’ll Remember You**

**Chapter Six – Shiver**

_God, my head hurts... Damn you, Doyle._ Rory felt like she was stuck in a loop. Headache, tired, hungry, stressed. Headache, tired, hungry, stressed. Headache... She knew that all of those things were connected, just as she knew how to deal with it – whenever she got the opportunity. She tried to take care of herself, she really did, but life seemed hell-bent on thwarting her.

Like that day. Her first Sunday off in what felt like forever, with no commitments, no homework and nothing for the Yale Daily News. She’d celebrated last night, by throwing herself a mini movie night – frozen pizza, the last of Luke’s brownies and The Lord of the Rings. In the end she’d seen the first two movies, and stumbled into bed late, tired but feeling content.

The contentment had disappeared quickly that morning, as Doyle had woken her up with an call at eight, barking orders for a meeting thirty minutes later at the paper. Rory had barely managed to get washed and dressed, and breakfast had consisted of coffee to go plus half a Mars bar hidden in her coat pocket. (And she really didn’t want to think about how long it had been there.) Lunch hadn’t happened, and dinner... The only reason she was out of the newsroom now, at four, was because she’d pulled Paris aside and threatened to dismember Doyle unless they were allowed to leave.

Harsh, yes, but it was how she felt. Especially after finding out that Doyle had started calling about the meeting at seven, and that she’d been the last one to find out. Also, Doyle was even worse at “subtle” than Paris. Telling either of them that it was probably time to call it a day wouldn’t have had an effect.

But now, to add economy to insult and injury, she was more or less forced to find herself some take-out, which she could ill afford. The money she’d gotten from her dad was all gone. Painkillers didn’t come for free, after all, and she’d consumed quite a lot of them that fall. Too many, it turned out.

She’d visited a doctor, also not free, Friday after experiencing a blinding headache – followed by being violently sick when she’d quickly swallowed two pills for it. The doctor had given her a severe scolding, called her all kinds of idiot, and then proceeded to tell her that she was way over the limit for how long she could eat those meds without risk.  
It worried her. A lot. Yes, there was the fact that she wasn’t sure about how she’d manage the rest of the term without them, but there was also the much scarier fact that she might have managed to damage her body by overdosing. There had been the option to have a more thorough examination and perhaps have something harmless prescribed. She’d said no, instead opting to try Finn’s advice – eat, sleep and relax. She knew it worked, and not only was it cheaper but also it contained no chemicals. Only, sometimes the rest of the world just refused to cooperate...

Then, she’d spent some of the money on Christmas presents, meaning she had that part mostly covered, but also that her monetary reserves were close to zero now. So yeah, take-out was a luxury she could ill afford. But seeing as her options were as bad as her finances... take-out it would have to be.

Rory sighed. Life **really** wasn’t going her way at the moment.

“Kitten?”

She jumped. She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts, her pain and her anger that she hadn’t noticed the person walking up to her. Talk about oblivious. It was always nice to see Finn though – maybe life had decided to give her a break?

“Hi.” He even got a smile, albeit a weak one.

“You look like **that** again, kitten. What happened?”

“Doyle threw a hissy-fit over the paper and had us all” _everyone except Logan Huntzberger that is_ “locked up in the newsroom from half past eight this morning until ten minutes ago, and feeding us wasn’t on the agenda. I’m trying to rectify that now.”

Rory winced. She sounder like a whiny five year old – not too surprising, because she **felt** like a whiny five year old. Finn though just smiled, looked at her carefully _and oh my, he’s got so pretty eyes_ and with understanding.

“Meet me back at my place in fifteen minutes, okay? I’ll take care of food.”

She should say no, she really should. Only, she didn’t want to. She was tired and hungry and in pain, and Finn was offering to take care of her. She **needed** to be taken care of. Also, he could afford some extra food – unlike her. Rory sent him a tired but grateful smile, and nodded. Seemed like she had in fact gotten that break after all. Then they went in separate directions.

~ * ~ * ~

“You know, I totally expected you to show up with pizza,” Rory informed Finn with a smile.

He looked up, smiled back and returned to his task: slicing and dicing a small mountain of vegetables and pork. He was good at it too – after spending a lifetime watching Sookie and the rest of the kitchen staff she could tell, even if it hadn’t rubbed off in any other way.

“Did you now? Disappointed?” There was a slight teasing in his voice.

“Of course not. Or well, let me get back to that once I’ve tasted it.”

At least, Rory thought, this explained Finn’s amused reaction to her “plan” to find a guy to cook for her. In a round-about way it seemed she had – at least for now. It wasn’t like they were together or anything, but for now it was nice to sit there and almost pretend.

“I normally cook my meals, unless there’s a reason. Now, my repertoire **is** a bit limited, but it’s enough to survive on.”

Finn’s meaning of “limited” was a bit of an understatement, Rory felt, because apparently it meant just about anything pasta, stir fry and soup – to her, it sounded wonderful And if it all tasted like this smelled – he’d just added some spices and a can of coconut milk – then he was more than worthy of the Gilmore Seal of Approval... She quickly redirected her thoughts. Thinking of her mom was a little less painful after her talk with Finn, but it still wasn’t something she enjoyed.

Dinner was great, and helped enormously with both her headache and her temper. Of course, she thought wryly as Finn made coffee, this made it possible for her to focus on other things...

Growing up Rory and Lane had gotten an interesting sex education. Mrs Kim had lectured both of the on occasion, giving them veiled hints about boys and their urges and expectations. Then they’d had Lorelai at the other end of the scale. Rory’s mom had not only been more open and to the point than Mrs Kim, she’d also served as the perfect example of what those expectations could lead to. As a result, both girls were more aware than most of their peers, and almost expected a certain hormonal behavior from boys. Sure, Dean (at least in the early stages) and Dave had taught them that boys **could** behave, but still...

Rory was alone with Finn, in his apartment, after having shared a very nice dinner. The last time she’d been there they’d ended up in bed. According to everything she knew sex **should** be an issue. But, she wondered, was that really a problem? She certainly found Finn attractive, and he’d proven it wasn’t entirely one-sided. The actual sex hadn’t been good, sure, but it **had** been sex. She was no longer a virgin, but at the same time she had no experience what so ever. Should what Finn and her had done count as having had sex half a time? A tenth?

As bad as the sex had been, the intimacy before had been amazing. If sex could be even half as good as the foreplay had promised, then Rory wanted to try again. She was curious, and she thought she deserved a better experience than the one she’d had. She already “knew” Finn, so, if he wanted to, why say no?

Coffee was served with some chocolate – pieces broken from a bar – and some really good music playing in the background. It was an Australian group, Finn said, that hadn’t gotten anywhere yet but soon should. To Rory’s dismay the album – their only – was practically impossible to find. It would have made a good present for Lane, she thought.

The conversation stayed on music, going in all directions but always comfortable, and Rory relaxed more and more. By the time Finn gave her an opening she was calm enough to react exactly the way she wanted to.

“Feeling any better, kitten?”

“I am, thanks. This was just what I needed, and yes, I know, you’ve told me so about a thousand times. I do try, but sometimes... Life doesn’t always cooperate, you know. Still, I’m going to have to try a little harder, because I’ve apparently reached a point where it’s ‘strongly advised’ I not take any more painkillers without seeing a doctor first. Scary. Plus, annoying, because I’m guessing my headaches won’t just disappear because I can’t take anything for them.”

“If you’re at that point, I’m guessing it’ll be the opposite instead. Withdrawal? But yeah, eating and sleeping properly will help a lot, as will keeping hydrated. While I’m guessing there’s not that much to be done about your parents, or Logan for that matter, I suggest you talk to your roommate. After all, it’s **her** boyfriend running you ragged, and I’m assuming she wants both of you intact.”

It was a good idea, and so she told him, even if she suspected Doyle might be a lost cause.

“And then, of course, there’s relaxation. If you’re in pain, take a hot shower and then lie down for a while with that hot-bag over your shoulders. It helps some, I promise. And, of course, you might always be able to persuade me to help out,” the last was said with a flirty smirk.

“Oh, and you **know** I’ll take you up on that! You’re a lot more... appealing than painkillers,” Rory said with a suggestive tone, trying hard to keep a straight face, and continued “I can’t see myself turning down one of your treatments.”

“Kitten, is that your way of saying your head still hurts and you’d like a massage?” Finn sounded unsure, not that common for him, and Rory smirked internally.

“No, I wouldn’t like a massage – I’d **love** one. Are you offering?”

“How could I turn down a lady in need? After all, I **am** supposed to be a gentleman.”

He was aiming for casual, it was obvious, and succeeding really well, but both of them knew that their conversation was a lot more loaded than they were letting on. Rory suppressed a pleased smiled and focused on sounding as innocent as possible.

“So, you want me topless on your bed, right?” The statement was provocative, she knew it, but as she wanted Finn to “get the hint” discreet probably wasn’t the way to go. Still, she’d combined it with innocence since she didn’t want to be too forward – that would just be too embarrassing should he turn her down.

Things were **not** going according to plan, Rory grumblingly admitted. Yes, she was getting a wonderful massage, but for once she’d actually had something else in mind. Finn, however, seemed... not to. There was something cautious about his movements, something she’d not experienced before, and it made her frown slightly. Hadn’t she been obvious enough? Did he expect her to strip completely and throw herself at him? _What?_ She hadn’t had much of a plan, not really, except than to try and show Finn she was more than interested in continuing as they’d started the weekend before. In all honesty she’d thought he’d pick up on it and make a move – letting her off the hook, so to speak. _Apparently not. Then how do I do this?_

When Finn’s hands slowed, and then stopped, and he shifted to move off the bed Rory saw her opening and struck. Figuratively speaking, of course. She rolled over on her back and stretched slightly, giving him an unobstructed view of her nude torso – all the while trying not to ruin the effect by cringing. When she spotted a shift in Finn’s eyes Rory smiled a little and reached for him. Once her hands were behind his neck she pulled him down towards her and met him with a kiss.

It seemed to work – Finn’s mouth covered hers with force and passion, and she silently cheered. Feeling encouraged she moved one of her hands to pull at his t-shirt, only to get a violent response. He jerked back, as if burned, and practically **jumped** off the bed. Rory just stared at him, not comprehending.

“Finn?”

“No. I... No, Rory.” Again with the serious voice. “This isn’t... I didn’t make you dinner to get sex.”

 _Oh. He doesn’t want... Oh._ The blood burned in her cheeks, briefly, and then seemed to disappear completely. She’d thought Finn was interested enough in her to want her again, and from the gossip she’d collected over the past weeks he wasn’t usually hard to get. From what she’d heard, though, usually he – like the other people in that circle of friends – went for “experienced”. And whatever you could call her, sexually experienced wasn’t on the list. Finn didn’t want to have sex with her again because she didn’t have the experience to satisfy him. She must have been really bad...

Now, she cringed, having gone from embarrassed to humiliated. Obviously she’d made a huge mistake, and now all she wanted was to leave as quickly as possible. If she could just...

“I understand. I misunderstood things. If you’d just **move** I’ll get dressed and go home, and I won’t bother you again.” But he didn’t.

Rory knew that unless Finn cooperated she’d need some serious luck to get him off her. Pushing him would most likely be useless, and hitting him... Tempting as it was, it would be wrong. He hadn’t done anything to deserve getting hit.

 _He misled me!_ Her inner voice was screaming, hurt and mortified, and totally out for blood. _He flirted with me, told me he wanted to kiss me, that he saw me as attractive. And once he got what he wanted and realized I wasn’t any good he rejects me. **That** is wrong!_

But, her conscience pointed out, she had been the one to go after him. Yes, he’d flirted, but she’d been the one to start things now, and she’d been the one going to him last weekend. And the fact that Finn had once said he was attracted to her didn’t mean he had to act on it.

_Girls are always saying how they should be allowed to say “no” whenever, no matter what they’ve said or done, or how far they’ve gone. Guys should have that right too._

Realizing she was angry with Finn for doing something she herself had done, to him, that she saw as her right... it did wonders for her temper.

Unfortunately that just increased her emotional turmoil – the pain and the humiliation growing by the second – and she ended up pushing at him after all.

“Kitten, calm down. Just... Why are you acting like this. Don’t run this time – **talk** to me.”

“You’re not letting me leave otherwise, are you? No, there’s no need for you to answer that – it doesn’t really matter.  
I’m ‘acting like this’ because it’s obvious that I’ve misunderstood quite a few things, and so I’d like to leave instead of staying here to be even more humiliated.”

“How did you misunderstand, kitten?”

“Don’t call me that. I’ve told you a thousand times, Finn, but you just don’t listen do you? Oh, right, I forgot. You wanted to ‘make me purr’, wasn’t it? Not doing so well there, are you?  
With the way **you** have been acting, all flirty and everything... I just made the mistake of taking you seriously. I shouldn’t have. If I’d realized that then I never would have tried...”

“Tried what, Rory? To seduce me? Because that’s what it’s looking like,” and her cheeks flamed again, “but that’s just crazy.”

And the humiliation kept piling up. Finn’s words were like a bucket of cold water in the face. If she could just get out of there she’d be very happy to never see him again. Yale had a big campus – it was possible to avoid another person for a year and a half, right? And if not, well, there were other colleges. Maybe Harvard would accept a transfer?

“Thank you, I get that. I **really** get that.” Her voice was frosty. “As I said, I never would have done anything had I realized you didn’t really see me like that. So, if you’d just **move** I’ll get dressed, and you can be sure I won’t ever bother you again.”

Strangely enough Finn didn’t seem happy with that. In fact, if she didn’t know better she’d say he was angry. But she did know better. Right?

“What? Kitten, no. Look, I... You’re not hearing me. I’m not saying I’m not attracted to you – I am, I’ve told you so, and I thought you believed me.” _I did, that’s the problem._ “I’m not saying I don’t want you either, or that you’ve done something wrong.  
It’s just, look, three days ago you were furious with me and telling me how I’d hurt you. How I’d caused you to bleed, and you were still in pain, remember? And now you’re saying what? That you want to try again? **That** ’s what’s crazy.  
I don’t get off on pain, Rory, not my own and not that of others. I have absolutely no intention of hurting you again. Also, I saw you. You were **not** enjoying it.”

“So I didn’t enjoy the painful part, you’re right about that. I’m not looking to repeat that either. But, you’re the one who told me that it didn’t need to hurt, that if you’d know you would have done things differently in order to make sure it didn’t. And in case you’ve already forgotten, I enjoyed the rest of it.  
Why shouldn’t I want to try again, huh? I’m a normal twenty year old, Finn. I’m curious, I have hormones. Now I’m not a virgin anymore, at least not technically, and I still don’t know a single thing more about sex than I did before. I wonder what I’m supposed to say if anyone asks? That I’ve had sex half a time? Or wait, does what we did constitute as that much? A quarter of a time? A tenth?” She was sounding bitchy, and she didn’t care. It was too late to worry about how she **sounded**.

“I thought that trying again with you was the best option. I already know you – sort of – and we’ve already been intimate. I know you’re capable of making at least **some** parts of sex enjoyable, and I didn’t think you’d mind. It seemed logical to me. After all, it’s not like I was asking – or expecting – you to be my boyfriend or anything. I just thought...” She shrugged. How was she supposed to tell Finn she’d thought that he probably wouldn’t mind her using him a bit – and that she felt he’d be doing the same? She couldn’t. God, she sounded so stupid. Why wasn’t there classes on these things? And why couldn’t he just have let her leave?

Finn just stared at her, and Rory was reminded of the fact that she wasn’t exactly clothed. She cringed, and looked away. She focused completely on trying to find a way to make Finn move, was in fact so focused she missed that he **did**. By the time she spotted her opening it was gone again. Finn hadn’t moved to let her leave, he’d done so in order to pull his t-shirt of and lay down next to her. As he pulled a blanket over them Rory decided that maybe she wasn’t in that much of a hurry to leave after all.

And as Finn’s mouth covered hers Rory knew she didn’t want to leave at all...

He was going slow, which was nice, but after just kissing and soft touches for while Rory decided to try and move things along. Her hand moved from his back to the buttons of his jeans – only for Finn to stop her. Her earlier feeling of rejection returned, but this time she kept her calm. There had to be an explanation. There just **had** to.

“Finn?”

“Sorry, but don’t do that. Now, don’t get upset again. If you want to... play, kitten” and both his tone and the curve of his mouth was suggestive, “I’m certainly up for it.” More suggestion there. “But, we’re not having sex. Not tonight. I heard you, but it’s too early. The reason you were bleeding so much last time is probably because of tearing. Let’s give you some time to heal, yeah? There are plenty of other fun things I can do to make you... **purr**. And I think I promised to make sure you were properly prepared the next time.”

He hadn’t actually promised that, or anything else, but Rory wasn’t going to call him on it. She was a little disappointed that they wouldn’t have sex now, sure, but at the same time she was a little relieved. Also, she was very, very curious about what Finn meant about her being “properly prepared”.

~*~*~*~

The next morning Rory wake up feeling more rested than in weeks. She stretched – or tried to. There was something heavy keeping her in place. Opening her eyes she saw Finn next to her. His arm was slung over her stomach, and one of his legs were – again – resting between hers. And both of them were completely naked.

She flushed slightly. Just as Finn had said they hadn’t had sex last night, but oh, what “fun” they’d had. A satisfied smile appeared on her face. She’d purred, alright. Oh, the boy certainly knew how to make a girl happy. With a little luck he might be willing to do so again, and...

That thought was interrupted by the realization that it was light out. _What time **is** it, anyway? I shouldn’t have let Finn talk me into falling asleep here..._ But, then again, she really hadn’t been that hard to persuade. Then she spotted the time, and her eyes opened impossibly wide. No wonder she’d felt so well rested!

“Shit! Finn, wake up. Come on, Finn, **move**!”

“Huh?” He so wasn’t awake. That didn’t matter, she needed him moving, not awake.

“I overslept. I have a class in twenty five minutes, and I have to get back to my dorm first. God, the professor’s going to kill me!”

Now he was a little more alert. He sat up, mussed his hair a little and rolled his shoulders.

“What do you need from your dorm?”

“A shower, a change of clothes, breakfast – but there’s no time for that really, so I’ll just starve until lunch – and either my laptop or a notebook. Why?”

“There’s no way you’re going to make it to your dorm and do that, **and** make it to class on time. Look, just hop in the shower here, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Rory didn’t protest, seeing as it would be a waste of time, but instead got up and did as suggested. She hurried as much as possible, and then returned to the bedroom. On the chair with her clothes were a long sleeved t-shirt, in a nice emerald green that matched Finn’s eyes perfectly – _And what pretty eyes they are... Focus, Gilmore!_ – and a pair of boxers. Luckily, even though Finn was quite a bit bigger than her like most guys he had really slim hips. That meant that the boxers fit her well enough to stay up underneath her jeans, and the tee worked fine as well. She just needed to pull up the sleeves a bit.

When she came out Finn was pouring coffee into a small Thermos, with a travel mug steaming next to it.

“Here. There’s some breakfast in this bag, plus a notebook and some pens. You should manage with that, yeah? Good. Just make sure you eat, otherwise we both know what’s going to happen.”

He was right. Rory sent him a grateful smile, slipped on her shoes and coat, grabbed the bag and started putting her things in with the rest.

“Nah, just leave that. You can pick it up later, and return the Thermos and such. Now, you’ve got fifteen minutes, so you’d better hurry. Have fun now.” And with a wink he saw her out.

As she walked towards class at a brisk pace – fast, yet slow enough for her to drink her coffee – she smiled. Finn had been surprisingly domestic, fixing her breakfast and everything. Her smile slipped away. Finn’s actions had been so... so couple-y. He’d cooked for her when she was tired and hungry and worn out. He’d cheered her up. He’d thought about what was best for **her** and not about what he’d gain most from. It was almost like a relationship. It was more like a relationship than what she’d had with Dean in the end. If Dean had taken care of her even half that much, then things would have been very different between them.

She’d meant it when she’d told Finn that she wasn’t looking for him to be her boyfriend. Still, when he did things like this... it was hard to remember it wasn’t a relationship, that she didn’t **want** a relationship. Because she didn’t, okay? She’d tried that, and look where that had gotten her. No. It was time to try something new, and being “casual” with Finn was it.

When she sat down in class and saw that “some breakfast” meant a sandwich, some fruit, a small bottle of juice and some chocolate it became even harder to remember that Finn and her weren’t a couple, they were just having fun. Right?

~ To Be Continued ~


	7. Chapter 7

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I’ll Remember You**

**Chapter Seven – Heat**

“I’m quitting the Yale Daily News.”

Rory watched as her roommate grew perfectly still, and then whipped her head around at an unnatural speed. Something must have tipped Paris off that this was serious, wasn’t a joke or anything like that, which made the blond act very much unlike herself. She stared, opened her mouth to say something, closed it when nothing came out and started over again. After a couple of minutes she shook her head, as if to force her thought-process in order, turned the TV off and tried again.

“What?”

“I’m quitting the paper, Paris.”

“Why?” The one-word questions? A clear indication that Paris was rattled. The same went for the lack of an outburst. Any other time Rory might have been amused by it – right then, however, she didn’t have the energy. Also, it was hard to find any amusement in the situation seeing as she didn’t **want** to give up her spot at the Yale Daily News. What she **needed** was another thing completely.

“Because I’d like to make it through the year with both my grades and my health intact. That’s not going to happen if I keep working at the paper.”

Paris just kept staring, obviously searching for words.

“Look, remember how back at Chilton, sometimes you’d be... a bit ‘difficult’ about the Franklin? Well, on your worst you were still better than Doyle.”

“He’s not that bad!” Paris immediately started defending her boyfriend. Then she looked at Rory again, and faltered. “He’s not... is he?”

“Yeah, he is. He **really** is. Ever since the two of you got together... Honestly? If you don’t mind him treating you like his personal slave, fine. That’s up to you. But me? **I** ’m not dating him. **I** mind. Whatever agreement the two of you have? I’m not part of the package.” She saw Paris open her mouth to protest and talked right over her.

“I’m serious, Paris. Doyle’s been difficult from day one, sure, but not like this. He’s a slave driver, but that I can live with. Or I **could** , if only he treated everyone the same. Which he doesn’t. But now it’s like he thinks he doesn’t have to treat you **or me** as human beings. Just take last Sunday as an example. When he decided we should all be locked up in the newsroom all day he called me last. Last, Paris – **and** half an hour later than the others. Everyone else got the time to have breakfast and get ready. Me? I was happy to get dressed before I had to run. That he wouldn’t let us leave to eat, **or** order takeout? That was just the icing.  
Then we have yesterday. Do you know why I was told to stay behind? He felt that my article about the Russian exchange students wasn’t ‘up to standards’. Yes, the one you proofed for me. Apparently the Yale Daily News no longer accept articles that are simply ‘good’, at least not from me, no, now the quality has to be ‘award winning’. Which meant I had to spend over two hours rewriting because that’s what it took to make Doyle happy. And then he had the gall to demand I stay even longer to fix another reporter’s story. Because where would the world end up if Logan Huntzberger had to clean up his own messes?”

That had been when Rory had told Doyle she was leaving, and if he wanted something else done he could do it himself. She’d been so angry, and so sick. Not just “sick” as in “sick of Doyle’s attitude” but “sick from her headache”. The stress, as always these days, had gotten to her, as had her anger and resentment. The fact that she’d been long overdue for dinner at Finn’s? Hadn’t helped either. It had resulted in her having to rush to the nearest bathroom to throw up before texting Finn with an apology – there had been no way she could have managed showing up for dinner after all – and walking back to her dorm on wobbly legs.

Finn had replied, asking if she wanted him to bring dinner over to her dorm, which had only caused her nausea to return. Luckily he’d understood. So, instead of a cozy evening with Finn, a nice dinner and some tension relief of the sexual variety, she’d fallen into bed early and spent the night with a pounding head and throwing up a couple of times more. She was not subjecting herself to that again. Writing for the Yale Daily News might look good on her resume, but it was **not** worth getting that sick over. Nothing was. 

“So, yeah, he’s that bad. He acts like a petty tyrant, Paris, but just towards you and me. The others at least get treated okay. Oh, unless you’re Logan Huntzberger, of course. **Then** you get Doyle’s third MO – acting like a spineless sycophant. I realize that he thinks this will give him an ‘in’ for a job, but honestly? From what I’ve heard it’s having the opposite effect. Then again, not my problem.  
The fact that I probably should have visited the ER yesterday? That **is** my problem. You know things haven’t been exactly stress-free for me lately. I thought coming back to Yale, and away from everything in Stars Hollow, would help, but it didn’t. I’ve been suffering from really bad stress-related headaches for over two months now, and Doyle’s been the reason for too many of them.  
The truth is that I’ve been overdosing on painkillers to cope, and I can’t do that anymore. I had to see a doctor, and I didn’t like what he had to say. Turns out I’ve developed some sort of almost allergy that makes me sick if I take anything – **and** it might cause permanent damage to my body. Plus my blood pressure’s about to become an issue. It’s time I cut my losses and leave.”

Paris just kept staring, speechless. By the time she found words her face was a study in worry.

“You know Doyle’s going to go ballistic? **And** he’s going to point out that quiting the paper’s not going to look good on your resume.”

“I know. However, I’m guessing prospective employers will forgive me for wanting to stay out of the hospital and actually graduating. I’m hoping so, at least. If not, well, I’ll deal with it then. I like writing for the Yale Daily News, I really do, but I like being healthy more.”

Rory swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. It wasn’t just that she wanted to cry, it was also the fact that she hadn’t eaten in almost twenty four hours – a really bad idea. It was time to rectify that, because she wouldn’t feel better until she did. Also, if she was going to throw up again? She wanted something else than tears and water in her stomach then.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know Doyle’s likely to get even worse after this, but I can’t do it any longer. I don’t want to quit, I really, **really** don’t want to, but I can’t see any options. Now, I absolutely have to get something to eat – and see if I can keep it down. I missed my classes today because I couldn’t get out of bed, and I’d prefer not to repeat that tomorrow.”

“Sit down. I’ll fix you something, because Gilmore? You’re not looking too steady there.”

She wasn’t. Standing up took more energy than she liked, confirming that it was time to focus on **her** for a while instead of every one else.

~*~*~*~

In the end she didn’t have to quit. She’d handed in her written resignation, and Doyle had as predicted exploded. When she told him about the reasons why he’d gotten even angrier. And, just as Paris had thought, he had tried and manipulate her by pointing out that leaving the Yale Daily News wouldn’t look good to prospective employers. In return she’d shrugged and told him exactly what she’d told Paris, except perhaps not as nicely; that she was sure most of them would understand why she’d chosen her studies and her health over being bullied by a petty tyrant. The ones that didn’t... well, maybe she didn’t want to work for someone like that. She didn’t now, anyway.

Doyle had looked like he was suffering from a stroke when she walked away, but she hadn’t cared. She’d made the right decision.

The next day he’d approached her and asked her, very privately, to reconsider. He’d even offered to lighten her workload considerably. Rory suspected a visit from “Hurricane Paris”, but couldn’t prove it. Whatever the reason, though, she was happy. She **really** hadn’t wanted to give up her spot on the paper, and being able to both eat her cake and keep it... She was so not complaining about that.

The downside was that she’d planned to spend her newly acquired free time with Finn, and had looked forward to it. Then again, the Yale Daily News was an investment in her future and Finn... wasn’t. He was fun, yes, but not the kind of fun that would have an actual impact on her life in say, ten years. And if it was something Lorelai Gilmore had taught her only child – and that Rory still accepted as one hundred percent true – it was that you did not compromise your future for temporary pleasures.

That meant that the only viable solution was to go back to the paper, and work her time with Finn around whatever schedule she got. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was what she would do. After all, the Yale Daily News would be there for certain for the rest of her time at Yale, while she had no way of knowing if Finn would be a part of her life in even a week.

~*~*~*~

Going to the Pub to meet up with the boys and girls from the Life and Death Brigade hadn’t been the smartest course of action Rory mused as she listened to Logan rant and rave next to her. She’d wanted an opportunity to talk to Finn, and maybe make some plans, but instead she’d ended up trapped between a wall and a blond.

“That little hobbit actually killed my story!”

Logan was furious, which was kind of amusing, and Rory had a **very** hard time even faking some sympathy. After all, it was high time Doyle had put his foot down with the spoiled blond. If Logan had a problem with actually doing his own work... Well, the answer was easy, wasn’t it?

“And he was right to do so. Oh, don’t give me that look. I’ve read the piece, and it was sloppy. Yes, the writing was good, as was the subject, and I really liked your angle. But it was obvious that you hadn’t done your research properly – it **showed** , Logan. And Doyle didn’t kill the story, he just told you that he’d lifted it from **this** issue but would run it when you’d done the job properly.  
Sure, usually he wouldn’t have said anything to you, but this time he did. For some reason he’s decided to treat you like everyone else at the paper. If you have a problem with that, maybe you should quit.”

She could say that with a straight face and a clear conscience – it was what she’d done after all. Oh, in the end she hadn’t had to stand by her decision, but she’d been willing to.

Logan made that funny fish-impression she loved causing in people, and then started sputtering.

“What are you talking about?”

“Like you don’t know. I’m guessing you have copies of every article you’ve handed in **and** of the printed result. Don’t tell me you’re too stupid to notice when one of your articles suddenly have a graph or a ton of important facts you didn’t add. When someone else hands in something that’s lacking they have to rewrite, or add research, or whatever is necessary.  
Doyle’s been known to lock people in the newsroom until their stories measure up. You however... Up until now Doyle’s just smiled at you, told you how great you are, and then bullied someone else to do the job. Do you really think it’s right that other people get even more to do because you’re spoiled and lazy?” A bit harsh, perhaps, but she didn’t want to hear Logan whine any longer. Not when she was one of the reporters who’d ended up doing his job on several occasions.

“Huh.”

And that, it seemed, was it. Maybe he realized he wouldn’t get any support, maybe he saw the error of his ways. Whatever the reason he switched the subject to Christmas presents instead.

Of course, that didn’t turn out entirely pleasant either. Several of the boys asked her for tips on what to get their girlfriends, or sisters, but Logan took it one step further. His suggestion that she come with him to look for a present for his sister felt like a come-on, his compliments that surely **she** would find a perfect gift like a line. Then again Logan **was** all about lines.

Take the event she’d covered. Logan had talked her into jumping off a scaffold, by using equal parts blackmail, flirting and professional insecurities. Rory had enjoyed the experience, yes, but still. The words Logan had used to get her to agree had come back to haunt her on several occasions. They had the feel of a line, something he’d said only to make her take the jump – not only off the scaffold, but also into bed with him. “Sheltered” he’d called her, and maybe she was in some areas. In others, not so much.

For instance, back then she hadn’t known passion. She’d felt strongly about many things, and had cared deeply about people. Passion though... It had been a part of her vocabulary, but not her life. The closest she’d gotten had been Jess, and a lot of that (she’d since understood) had been cerebral. After all, if she’d truly felt real passion when it came to him, wouldn’t she have slept with him then? Said “yes” instead of “no” and left Yale with him that summer? There had always been something holding her back with Jess, though, and she had a feeling it had been a lack of real passion.

Now, when it came to Finn... She flushed slightly as her eyes met his over the room, and found it hard to get her thoughts into order. With him **everything** was about passion... 

It had been five weeks since that first night she’d spent at Finn’s, and things between them had escalated, going from “playing” to sex. Rory never would have believed she was capable of the kind of passion Finn woke in her – still had a hard time believing it – but maybe it had more to do with him than with her. Before Finn she’d never really been that comfortable about her body, not like that. Even the thought of being naked in front of him had made her blush scarlet in the beginning – a reaction that was long gone now.

Finn was comfortable in his skin, with his sexuality, and some of that had transferred to her as well. Oh sure, she wouldn’t be joining a nudist colony, or become sexually aggressive, but she was no longer shy and hesitant around Finn. And at the moment, that was all that mattered.

Their second first time had been a strange experience, oddly familiar yet totally different. There had been the same desire, the same pleasurable foreplay, but none of the awkwardness or the pain. She’d learned enough about Finn’s body – and hers – by then to be an active participant, but most of the credit for the success was his. It wasn’t because of his experience – an experience she rather not think about – but because he payed attention. Finn **noticed** things. He’d known when she was scared, nervous or uncomfortable, and he’d also known how to deal with it. He knew how to make her curious, how to make her hormones run rampant and yes, how to make her purr.

A fleeting thought whether sex would have been as good an experience with Dean was instantly crushed. They had never really been about the physical. Their kisses had been sweet, not scorching, and had been a way to express their feelings. Thinking back she knew without a doubt that those kisses would never have moved her had she not already been infatuated at first, and later in love. Kissing Finn however... Those kisses **burned** with passion and desire, was **all** about the physical, and made her forget everything else. _I wouldn’t mind a bit of that now..._

“You okay there, Ace?” Logan’s voice startled her, made her jump slightly and forced her to focus on her surroundings again.

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m getting a bit caffeine deprived, I think.”

“That’s easily dealt with. Let me just... Milk or sugar?”

“Logan, no. I’ll get my own coffee.”

That didn’t go over too well. It looked like Logan had finally reached his limit after having had his offers for drinks turned down for three months.

“I can buy you a cup of coffee, Ace, it’s not that big of a deal. At least it shouldn’t be. I can afford it, you know – not even **your** coffee habits could bankrupt me.”

“It’s not about that.” It really wasn’t. Truth be told, she would have been more likely to accept if it **had** meant bankrupting him – or at least inconveniencing him financially. Buying her a cup of coffee wouldn’t even make an impression on Logan’s credit card, and it meant nothing to him. Even if she hadn’t been weary of accepting anything from him after the spiked drink-incident she would have said no, just because of how meaningless it was for Logan. The guy didn’t even know that coffee was supposed to be served on it’s own; no milk, no sugar, no booze. Jerk.

“I won’t be ruined by a cup of coffee either,” which was true, _but only because Finn keeps insisting on feeding me._

“Look, Logan, I don’t just drink coffee; I live it, I breathe it and I’m almost sure that if you cut me I’ll bleed it. I **am** coffee. But have you ever seen me drink coffee here? No, you haven’t. You know why? Because whatever it is they serve here, it sure doesn’t deserve being called coffee. There **is** a coffee shop a block or two away though that serves a more than decent brew. I’ll just walk over there, I think.”

“Then at least let me walk you.” _He just don’t know when to quit, does he?_

“That’s nice of you, but I’d prefer to go on my own. I feel a headache coming on, and I need some quiet, if I’m to actually manage tomorrow as well. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, forty-five minutes tops. If I’m not back by then you have my permission to come search for me.”

It felt like a safe thing to promise – Logan probably wouldn’t, but if he did she just might need it. Oh well.

Before she got outside Rory was halted by a hand on her arm and a slightly familiar voice calling “Gilmore” just loud enough to carry above the noise – but not loud enough for anyone back at the table to hear. Turning around she spotted Colin.

“McCrae.” A raised eyebrow and her intonation conveyed her opinion about the last name business.

“Rory,” he got the hint, “look, could I buy you that cup of coffee? Or a friend for it? I know,” and he halted her oncoming protest, “you’re a big girl, a modern woman, you can take care of yourself and all that, but still. It’s **not** a come-on, honestly, it’s just... I guess I’m trying to be a friend. And seeing as I’ve come to realize you won’t let me buy you a drink in the ‘normal’ fashion...”

He looked very uncomfortable, and Rory couldn’t help wonder why. She wasn’t inclined to take pity on him though – him, or anyone else from that group. Finn was excluded, of course.

“My caffeine addiction isn’t really your problem, Colin, and there’s no need for you to buy me anything. So naturally I wonder why you care – you’re in no way obligated.”

“I have to be ‘obligated’ now to care about a person?” He sounded more amused than angry though. “First of all, I know what it’s like to suffer from abstinence – I was stupid enough to smoke as a teenager – and it’s not fun. And the temper... Honestly? I enjoy seeing you shooting Logan down, I do, but...  
Logan told me you threatened to smash his head in a few weeks ago. He thinks it was cute, a joke, but me, I’m guessing you meant it. And even though I’d probably **really** enjoy watching you loose it with him it’s a bit unnecessary. I think you’d regret it afterwards, and I **don’t** want to listen to him bitch about it for the next month.”

Rory’s eyebrows shot up. _Looks like I’m not the only one who’s annoyed by Logan’s whining...Huh._ She’d never expected Colin to be that frank with her though, nor so harsh with his friend.

“My mother raised me to be a gentleman, and told me that if a lady was present it was my duty to take care of her – whether we were on a date or not didn’t matter. And that includes paying; drinks, dinner – not that I know any girls that eat, except for you – tickets, cab fare, you name it.”

“So, you’re saying... what? That unless I want to be considered not a lady it’s **my** job to let you buy me things? Huh. They didn’t teach that at Chilton.”

“I think it’s normally covered in the pre-ball etiquette classes for débutantes.” It was a ruse, meant to throw her off, but unfortunately Rory didn’t think about that until too late.

“No, it’s not.” _Shit_. As soon as the words had left her mouth Rory **knew** she’d slipped up in a big way. The grin spreading over Colin’s face confirmed it.

“ **You** were a débutante?”

“Yes, I was. Have you **met** my grandmother? It wasn’t as she’d miss that, okay, not after... Look, Colin, that isn’t exactly how I market myself, really not. So, do you think you could keep the débutante thing between the two of us? Please?” She added a touch of Bambi-eyes – just a hint, she didn’t want to come of as helpless **or** flirting – and was surprised to see Colin shake his head.

“Sorry, that won’t work with me. However... I’ll make a deal with you; you accept the coffee, I stay quiet.”

“Blackmail doesn’t become a gentleman, you know. Didn’t your mother teach you **that**?” She didn’t really think it would work, but still felt she had to try.

“Oh, I know, and she did. But, while my mother raised me to be a gentleman my father raised me to be a lawyer – meaning I was to use whatever works.”

“Fine. You can pay for coffee. But only because if Logan ever found out that certain little tidbit I would have to kill him – he’d never shut up otherwise,” she said with mock sharpness.

Colin just smiled, and handed her a folded bill.

“You know, it’s beginning to look like you’re not nearly as big of a jerk as you try and portray yourself as.”

“Shhh. Don’t tell anyone – it’d ruin my image.”

The combination of Colin’s conspiratorial tone, and facial expression, and her memory of Finn saying the same thing made her giggle helplessly. It seemed she’d judged Colin a bit too quickly – a mistake she found herself doing too often for her taste. He was a lot more fun than she would have suspected, and that offer of friendship? She just might take him up on that.

_The way things are going I’ll wake up tomorrow and realize Logan’s really a great guy._ She snorted, and shook her head. No matter what happened, **that** was impossible. Sure, she’d been quick to form an opinion on Logan, but it was hard not to – he proved to her exactly how right she’d been every single time he opened his mouth. _And to think I actually contemplated dating him!_

She was pulled out of her thoughts physically, as a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into a dark side street. Panicking slightly Rory went for her mace – ever since the vow renewal she kept it easily accessed – but calmed down as she heard a familiar voice.

“Calm down, kitten, it’s just me. Sorry, I shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

“Finn!” She slapped his shoulder, relieved and angry and happy all at once. “You know not to do that.”

“Yeah, and I really am sorry. I just couldn’t wait.” And then he cut off any more protests with a kiss. 

There was a familiar hunger in his kisses, one that was echoed in her, and that made her feel more drunk than any liquor could ever manage. It ran through her veins like champagne bubbles, bubbles of fire, and burned away all thoughts of “should” and “shouldn’t”. It made her feel utterly helpless and immensely powerful, all wrapped into one. She had no control when it came to Finn – and wanted none.

As his hands moved beneath her top to caress her breasts she didn’t protest, she only shifted a little to give him better access and moaned with pleasure. When he pulled the top up and her bra down so he could kiss the naked skin her reaction was the same.

Oh, she was aware of the risk the were taking. Anyone could walk by, could decide to enter the dark alley – Logan, for instance, could decide to come looking for her – and spot them. They could easily be discovered – and she didn’t care. The fact that Finn wanted her enough to risk it? It was a feeling almost as powerful as the desire they shared.

Deep down she’d hoped for this when she left – had **needed** this – and to finally have him kiss her, touch her... wanting her as she did him... Rory bit back a whimper of pleasure as his fingers found their way underneath her skirt and started drawing circles on top of her panties.

Then he was kissing her again, his mouth devouring hers, before spinning her body around so that her back was pressed against his chest. She whined, unhappy with the development, but softened as he started kissing her neck and let his hands go back to driving her crazy. Then it was just one hand, and she was barely coherent enough to recognize the sounds and movements from behind her, and then... It was new, different, and Rory had no idea how to react – or act. She would have been anxious and unsure if she hadn’t been so turned on, and soon she didn’t care at all. She burned, she saw stars, she soared.

It should have felt cheap and dirty afterwards, having been taken from behind in a dark alley. It felt anything but as Finn kissed her and whispered how amazing she was.

As he returned to the Pub – most likely constructing a story about being shot down by a redhead – Rory continued to the coffee shop. While her order, two large coffees and a sandwich – sex really triggered her appetite – was being prepared she slunk into the restroom, washed her face and hands, put on clean panties (she always kept a pair in her purse these days) and brushed her hair.

Walking back she couldn’t stop smiling. Not just because of the coffee, which was really good, and not even just because of Finn. No, her brain kept insisting on going back to Logan’s assumptions. Sheltered and in need of some adventure? Yeah, right. Finn made her feel anything but sheltered, and he provided all the adventure she could possibly need or want. _Oh, to be a fly on the wall if Logan ever finds out about that..._

By the time she walked through the doors at the Pub her smile had transformed into a slightly scary smirk.

~*~*~*~

When the door was securely locked behind her Rory sighed with relief. The fire alarm had gone off at the Pub, and the boys had decided to relocate to one of the dorms. She’d made her excuses, thinking she’d go to Finn’s – he’d slipped her a spare key earlier with a promise of “later” – but of course things couldn’t just be that easy. No, instead the boys had insisted on walking her back to her dorm, Logan’s voice being the loudest, naturally. She thought he’d meant for him to do it, alone, but Colin and Finn – both aware of her reluctance to spend time alone with their friend – had seconded the idea.

Still, getting Logan to leave had been harder than she’d expected considering that there had been an audience. Had he really expected her to succumb to his advances and say”yes” with all of them there to witness it? Obviously. _Moron_. Now, all she wanted to do was get out of the slightly smelly clothes and into her pajamas, and try to relax. So it wasn’t the end she’d envisioned for her evening, but sleeping came pretty high up on her list as well. Not as high as Finn, perhaps, but still high.

After changing and brushing her teeth she sat down on her bed and stretched carefully. It was another one of Finn’s suggestions, and just as every other one it worked. Her eyes wandered around the room and fell on the bag full of Christmas gifts that was stashed in a corner. The holiday promised to be strange this year.

She’d made plans with her dad, for one, and actually had high hopes of them happening. Chris had – more or less – gone into hiding after the vow renewal fiasco, and initially she’d let him, her anger and disappointment taking over. After two weeks she’d relented and offered an olive branch in the form of a text message. After all, if she wanted her dad to act like an adult she needed to do so herself.

Finn had helped her see that.

Since then she’d talked to her dad twice a week, and he’d even showed up to take her out three times in those four weeks. He hadn’t come out and say it, not straight out, but Rory had come to understand that her dad was adrift at the moment. **His** father’s death had taken a larger toll than expected, partly because Straub and Christopher Hayden had never resolved their issues – something that had made Rory promise herself not to make the same mistake.

On top of **that** there was the Lorelai-issue, of course. Apparently, after leaving Boston her mom had once more decided Chris was trouble, and not enough of a grownup for her, and refused to see him again. Her “come here – go away” attitude had caused Chris even more heartache and problems.

She tried to listen, and provided what support she could, but Rory knew it wasn’t nearly enough. She had her own problems to deal with, and taking on her dad’s on top of that... “Very bad idea” didn’t even begin to cover it. Instead she’d managed to talk him into seeing a counselor, by pointing out that not only had he just lost a parent, he’d also been left to cope as a single parent after Sherry had walked out. Maybe, she’d said, this was too much to deal with alone.

Chris had taken her advise, and was looking – and sounding – a lot better these days. Enough so for Rory to wonder if maybe she should be taking her own advise...

Chris and Gigi were spending Christmas in Hartford, with Francine, but when they returned to Boston on the 26th she’d be going with them. Just for a few days, as she was spending New Year’s Eve with Lane and the band, but it was a lot to her. It would be the first time in years that she would get more than 24 hours with her dad, and it would be the first time that she could remember that it would be just the two of them. Oh, Gigi made three, naturally, but what she really meant was her and her dad without her mom.

Speaking of which... She hadn’t told her mom about her plans yet, and had no intention of doing so until she absolutely had to. Lorelai Gilmore wouldn’t like her daughter’s decision, Rory knew without question, and would make her displeasure known in more ways than Rory liked to think about. Still, spending time with her dad and her little sister was about **her** , not about her mom, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way.

Looking at the gifts again she smiled. On top was Lane’s perfect gift – thanks to Finn. He’d remembered the comment she’d made about Lane and the Australian music and acted upon it. Turned out he had exactly the kind of connections needed to get an extra copy of the album, autographed and everything, and an obscure band t-shirt. He hadn’t let her pay for it either, claiming that once he’d explained Lane to the guitarist – an old classmate of his – he’d gotten it for free. Rory wasn’t so sure she believed him, but arguing was pointless. So, she’d ended up thanking him most... “enthusiastically” instead.

In a way, she mused, Colin’s comment about it being his “duty” to pay for anything a girl could want or need could just as easily had come from Finn. Sure, he never **said** anything, but it was kind of obvious in the way he acted. Every time they met at his place he cooked for her – and no matter how much she tried the most Rory had been allowed to contribute had been to set the table. Most days she wasn’t even allowed to do that. Once she’d gotten away with bringing a few brownies that had somehow survived at the back of her freezer, but that was it. Finn was adamant that if he asked her to dinner – and the fact that he mostly never asked, just cooked, didn’t factor into the equation – then she was a guest, and guests neither helped out nor payed.

Of course, for some strange – but probably logical, at least to him – reason the same didn’t apply to him. Finn had climbed through her window carrying take-out more than once, always maintaining that since it had been his idea, and she hadn’t been asked, it was also his treat.

Oh, she’d told him repeatedly that he didn’t need to feed her, didn’t need to spoil her, and that she absolutely did not expect it, but he always just smiled and ignored her. So, she let him. She had no way of stopping him, really, not without stopping everything else as well, and she **did** have to eat...

It was too easy to relax around Finn, to just sit back and let him take care of her. It was so easy it was dangerous. She wasn’t blind, or deaf, or stupid. She knew things with Finn and her weren’t ideal – nowhere near it. A persistent inner voice kept telling her that she wasn’t really the kind of girl to have casual affairs and sleep with someone she wasn’t dating. It was right, and she knew it, but at the same time she was rather fed up with the idea of being in a “real” relationship. Her previous experience didn’t exactly encourage – Jess and Dean had both chained her down in their way.

Dean had expected her to always be there for whatever he wanted or needed to do; if he was unpacking groceries at Doose’s, playing sports or fixing his car she should sit next to him and watch – no matter how boring she really found his activities – while at the same time always needed bribing to participate in the things that were important to her. It was always about how she’d compensate him, never about just doing something because he loved her and wanted her to be happy.

In his way, Jess had also expected her to always be there – to wait for him, to sit by the phone in case he’d remember to call. As for doing the things that she wanted? Oh, he’d done them while trying to catch her, but once the courting was over she’d not even been able to bribe him...

Finn on the other hand... He had no right to expect anything, couldn’t pull out the “don’t you love me anymore?” card if she followed her wishes instead of his, and never questioned her if she wasn’t available. If she didn’t want to sit around and wait for Finn to come look for her, she didn’t. If she didn’t want to sit at the Pub and watch him amuse himself, she didn’t. And he never complained – he couldn’t. In fact, if he was cooking he encouraged her to work on articles or such instead of keeping him company, claiming that he’d rather have her full attention “later”.

Why would she want to give up that freedom for the confines of a relationship?

At the same time... There were drawbacks to their “arrangement”. First there was the fact that she never knew when, or if, she’d see him again. Then there was the possibility that he was still sleeping with other girls as well – she didn’t think so, but couldn’t be sure – and his constant flirting. Then again, she’d known it was a risk she was taking going into this. It wasn’t a secret that the boys – and girls – from that crowd didn’t have relationships like the ones she was used to. They had flings, one night stands and escorts. They were casual, enjoyed their friends with “benefits” and didn’t seem to believe in love. Finn **was** part of that scene, and it was something she needed to remember.

Sure, Finn wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the others – Logan in particular came to mind – but still. She needed to not forget these things, and to decide what to do if – when – Finn found someone else. If he just started ignoring her, well, then she’d have no alternatives. But what if he slept with someone else and still wanted her too? Could she say ‘no’ if he asked her? Even the thought of turning him down felt impossible now, but what if?

The knock on the door startled her, then made her smile. Finn had found a way to sneak away after all! Then her smile died away. _Since when do Finn knock at the door? Or even use it?_ Ever since he’d realized how easy it was to scale the wall and climb through her window he’d chosen that option – it lessened the risk of being detected enormously – so why change that pattern now? And then it hit her. That was probably not Finn. And if it wasn’t, then there was only one logical explanation. She groaned.

A second knock, this time coming from the widow, almost made her jump out of her skin. She turned quickly, spotted Finn and hurried over while gesturing for him to be silent.

“Your roommate on the warpath again?”

“No, she’s at Doyle’s. It’s worse.” Another knock. “I **think** that’s Logan.”

Finn’s left eyebrow rose. He was looking amused, and not at all that surprised. It made her want to hit him – just a little.

“When you guys walked me home he was being all, you know, flirty and pushy, and ‘you know you want me’, and kept making these hints about putting me to bed. I thought I’d never get rid of him, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that the rest of you were there I probably still would be trying to discourage him. I say ‘trying’ because **obviously** he won’t get the hint – the only one besides him that would show up at this hour is you, and well...”

She sighed, fed up with trying to get the blond off her case.

“I just wish he’d give up. There’s a line of girls who actually **want** him, why can’t he go chase them instead? I don’t get it, I mean, I’m barely civil to him. You’re his friend, tell me how to make him go away?” she begged.

Something flashed across his face and suddenly there was a glint in his eyes and a set to his mouth that alerted Rory to the fact that while she might not understand this, Finn certainly did.

“You know something.” There was a hint of accusation in her voice, one she felt was excusable. “Tell me, Finn. Please? How else am I going to get rid of him?”

For a long while there was silence – Logan had stopped knocking it seemed – and Rory’s heart sank. Finn knew, and he wasn’t going to tell her. Suddenly all the fight, all the energy, left her and she found herself wishing that Finn would leave. When she told him so he looked shocked.

“Kitten?” She just shook her head, and he understood.

“You’re going to be so very angry.” He paused, giving her a chance to back off. “Do you really want to ruin the evening by talking about this now? Can’t it wait until morning?”

“No. Either you tell me, or you leave. I know you well enough by now to know that you won’t be any more willing to tell me in the morning, or the next time, or the time after that. Whatever it is you know, you’ve known all along, haven’t you? Make up your mind, Finn, this is making me tired.”

“Fine. Just... Try not to explode, okay? The reason Logan won’t give up is because...” He mumbled the end, and she couldn’t catch what he was saying. _Something about Robert?_ Nah, that couldn’t be it.

“What?”

“He’s got ten thousand dollars riding on it.”

She was having auditory hallucinations. She **had** to be.

“What!” she shrieked.

“Look, it’s not pretty, but I warned you. After your grandparents’ party, on the way back to Yale after dropping you off in Stars Hollow, Logan started talking about comforting you. Meaning he’d give you a couple of days, and then ask you out for dinner. Which, seeing as it’s Logan, would be followed by some more hands on comforting – in his bed. Or yours more likely, since he prefers being able to leave as soon as he’s gotten what he wants.  
Robert called him on it, though, told him he didn’t stand a chance. That you let Logan play your fake boyfriend for five minutes didn’t mean you’d be willing to let him try on the part for real, Robert said, and told Logan he’d be willing to put money on it.  
Logan being Logan just couldn’t take that. Being told a girl wouldn’t want him wounded his ego, and he decided to take Robert up on the bet. It escalated, and by the time we reached Yale it was ten thousand dollars for a date and sex – and Logan couldn’t enlist your grandparents’ help. Also, he had until New Years’ – Logan felt it was overkill, Robert that he was being fair.  
The next day Robert saw reason and tried to call it off. It didn’t happen – Logan saw it as Robert admitting defeat, and that would never happen. Those two really, really dislike each other. So. The bet’s still on, meaning Logan won’t give up.”

Finn had said she’d be very angry. She wasn’t. Furious, yes, even murderous, but not something as rational and tame as “very angry”.

“That slimy ass **bet** on getting me into bed? So now I have to stand his unwanted advances for almost another month? What kind of people are you guys?” And she burst into tears.

Once she’d calmed down Finn cleared his throat. He was looking uncomfortable, and kind of guilty, and nothing at all like the relaxed self assured guy she was used to.

“Would you like me to leave?”

Did she? Oh, she was angry with him for keeping this from her, but did that mean she wanted him to go away?

“This is why you’ve been acting so strange, isn’t it? You thought Logan would turn up the charm and I’d fall for him no matter what I said. I wish you’d told me, Finn. You really should have told me. But no, I don’t want you to leave. That bet? It wasn’t your idea, and I’m assuming you’re not a part of it? Then you can stay – if you still want to.” Her meaning was clear; Finn could stay, but there would be no sex. She’d lost all desire.

He once more showed the kind of understanding that made their arrangement worth every disadvantage by staying and just being there. Curled up against his body, listening to him telling some crazy story about a class trip back in Australia while enjoying the way his fingers were drawing lazy circles on her skin Rory found herself thinking the forbidden. Finn could be a great boyfriend... She quickly banished the thought and refocused on his voice.

She fell asleep before he could reach the end, wrapped up in warmth and security.

~ To Be Concluded ~


	8. Chapter 8

**Songs of Finn and Devotion, Part One  
I’ll Remember You**

**Chapter Eight – Heart**

2:47 in the morning, and Rory was awake in bed, feeling utterly confused. She was tired, body and mind, and needed sleep. Yet it felt impossible.

She took in the soft, should-be-soothing sounds of Finn’s even breathing and the vague shape of his body next to her. She could feel the heat emanating from him, and the weight of the arm he’d slung over her, as well as the slight roughness of his fingers resting against her skin.

If she focused she could feel where his hands and mouth had caressed and played earlier, could feel the slight ache of their extended lovemaking, could smell the sex on their bodies.

And yet, none of this was new. She’d slept next to Finn many nights over the past months, had **slept** with him even more often, and even though it hadn’t become routine, it was... well-known. It wasn’t a reason not to be able to sleep – most nights it was quite the opposite.

Except... There was a newness about the situation. While she’d stayed the night on several occasions, as had Finn at her dorm a few times, before it had always been something that “just happened”. It was often understood, almost always hoped for, but never planned. It was whispered words when no one could see or hear, a key slipped into her pocket and a suggestion that it was late. It wasn’t anything they agreed upon ahead of time. Until now.

This time he’d asked, had wanted to make plans.

They’d been laying there, sort of like this, only with him awake as well, when he’d mentioned it. He’d eased into it, of course, asking about her plans for Christmas before telling her about his, and how he was to leave a few days early. And then he’d asked.

“Kitten? Do you have any plans for next Saturday? ‘Cause, if not... I’m leaving Sunday morning, and I thought we might spend the evening; dinner, perhaps a movie. You could spend the night, that is, if you don’t mind that I have to get up really early?”

She’d been shocked, to say the very least, but had agreed. She’d not had any other plans, and she did enjoy her time with Finn. Seeing as she’d known he normally spent at least three weeks in Australia, she’d known it would be her last chance to see him for quite some time. Plus, her obnoxious subconscious had added, it might be her last chance to spend time with him ever – he could easily have tired of her by the time he returned to Yale.

So, she’d said yes.

That had been nearly a week and a half ago, and Rory had started to question her judgment. There were several reasons why she shouldn’t have agreed so easily, she knew it, if only she would open her eyes.

And **why** had Finn done something so out of character as to make plans? At the time she’d been too happy to ask; later she’d not wanted to jinx it. Now, however, it was keeping her awake. Well, along with certain other issues that she really didn’t want to be reminded of. Instead she again tried to will herself to sleep. She focused on Finn; on his warm, soft skin, on the way his chest rose and fell with his every breath, on his presence.

Waking up at quarter past five was never fun, but normally not this much of a hardship. Of course, normally she didn’t fall asleep at half past four either. Rory wanted nothing more than to growl and groan, and bury her head beneath a pillow and pretend the world didn’t exist. Except... there was Finn. Finn, who was leaving soon. Finn, whom she might never wake up next to again... No. Not going there. Instead she curled into his arms, following his lead into oblivion.

“Kitten?” She’d somehow managed to fall asleep again, because Finn was no longer next to her, instead standing next to the bed showered and dressed. “I need to leave now, the cab’s downstairs. No, don’t get up – stay and sleep. I’ve left a key on the table. Take care of yourself now,” he said with a hint of stern amusement.

“You too, Finn. Have a nice visit home.”

One more kiss, then another, and a last one; then he was out the door.

Finn was gone.

~*~*~*~

Finn was anxious. For the first time in his memory he was more interested in coming back to school after a break than he’d been in going home in the first place. Being back with his family for Christmas had been great, it always was, but still… Something had been missing. And though normally he would have stayed for another couple of days, skipping some classes if possible, he’d actually gone back early this time. Classes didn’t even start for another two days.

He would have liked to claim he’d gone back for a party, or the need to study, or anything, but that wasn’t the case. He knew exactly why he was here. Or well, no, not exactly. He didn’t really understand **why** but he still knew **the reason** he was back at Yale. Rory Gilmore.

She had never been far from his thoughts during the two weeks in Australia, and to Finn that was puzzling. He never spent any amount of time thinking about the girls he was bedding, not normally. And what thought there was, well, it was normally centered on when he’d be able to get one of them in bed again. Rory had changed all that.

It wasn’t just that he’d never had to worry about getting her into bed – she’d been a natural, a true sensualist hiding underneath the studious exterior – but also that he’d actually had fun with her out of bed. Hell, he’d had fun with her **sober**. He had a hard time remembering the last time that had happened – at least with a girl he had a carnal interest in.

And now, for some reason he couldn’t quite figure out, he had not only rushed back to Yale to be with her but was also silently willing the cab to move faster. Once he reached his apartment he would call Rory, he decided, and try to talk her into coming over for dinner and some “reconnecting”. His body agreed, humming with desire at the mere thought of her.

He dropped his bags by the door and let out a sigh of contentment. Yes, Australia would always be home in a way, but right then his **real** home was here. He walked over to the kitchenette to check what he needed to shop for before cooking, while sorting through his mail. Nothing caught his attention until he found a padded envelope with only his name, no address, in a familiar handwriting. He smiled and opened it, dumping the rest of the mail on the table. Inside he found an unmarked CD and a folded piece of paper.

He looked at the CD before placing it in his stereo, but there was no clue as to what was on it. That wasn’t too unusual though, they’d exchanged burnt CD’s with music they’d thought the other would like on occasion. So he pressed play and sat down to listen, and to read the accompanying letter at the same time.

“Finn,  
reading this means you’re back at Yale. I, however, am not. I won’t be returning – this is goodbye.

Something came up, kind of ‘an offer you can’t refuse’, only I almost did. For you. Because I was stupid enough to fall in love with you. The girl I used to be would never have thought twice about it, she would have said ‘yes’ and embraced the possibilities. Instead I found myself saying ‘no’ – because it would mean leaving Yale, leaving **you**.

It wasn’t until after that it hit me. That’s not me. I’m not the girl who jeopardizes her future for a boy – and I don’t **want** to be that girl. Yet, I almost was. I don’t know **who** that makes me, but I need to get back to the old me, the one that was smart and responsible, with plans and a future. I need to do what’s best for me.

I don’t regret the time we spent together; it was a wonderful adventure, but it’s not right for me anymore.

Take care of yourself.  
I’ll remember you, always.”

 

As the music stopped and the room grew silent Finn tried to understand. Tried, and failed. He read the letter again. And again, and then once more to try and decipher its meaning, and in desperation one final time, hoping that the words would change. They didn’t.

Rory was gone.

Rory had fallen in love with him, and now she wasn’t there anymore. She had left him, without a word. She was **gone** and nothing he could say or do could change that. And it felt like someone had reached inside him and grabbed hold and **pulled**. It hurt. He missed her unlike he’d ever missed anything in his grown life.

And then, too late, he realized what the feeling inside was, the one he’d pushed away and refused to analyze for weeks now. Love. He was in love with Rory. And she’d never understood it, had thought he only saw her as a fling, a steady source of sex. That hurt too, realizing how he must have hurt **her** by being his usual, spoiled self. His Rory. His adorable kitten. Only not his. Not there to share his revelation, hear him confess to finally being in love.

Not there. Not his. And God, how it hurt.

  
_It’s daybreak, and you are asleep_  
I can hear you breathe now  
Your breath is deep  
But before I go  
I’ll look at you one last time  
I can hear a heart beat  
Is it yours or is it mine? 

_I look at your lips_  
I know how soft they can be  
Did they know what they wanted  
the times they kissed me? 

_And your hands_  
that I’ve held in mine  
Now they’re reposing  
on the pillow  
Will they ever  
miss me sometimes? 

_I’ll remember you_  
You will be there in my heart  
I’ll remember you  
But that is all that I can do  
But I’ll remember 

_Your eyes_  
that always make me shiver  
Now they’re closed  
They just sometimes  
twitch a little 

_And your body_  
I could own for an hour  
It sent me to heaven  
with its heat and power 

_I’ll remember you_  
You will be there in my heart  
I’ll remember you  
But that is all that I can do  
But I’ll remember 

~ An End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story title, chapter titles and quoted lyrics from the song "I'll Remember You" by Sophie Zelmani, which can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jtOOs87K7M


End file.
